The Seven Swords Of Conan The Barbarian
by Thundarr The Barbarian
Summary: A desperate village recruits seven mercenaries to save them from the brigands that have been terrorizing them. A Cimmerian, an archer, a thief, a Beastmaster, a gladiator, a knight, and a red haired woman warrior must join forces to overcome impossible odds. Cross between Conan The Barbarian, Red Sonja, Beastmaster, Deathstalker, Willow & Seven Samurai. Rated M for sex & violence.
1. A Village In Peril

**Disclaimers:**

 **Seven Samurai** **: The Seven Samurai was written, directed, and edited by Akira Kurasawa in 1954. It was produced and distributed by Toho Entertainment. It starred Toshiru Mifune, Takashi Shimura, Seiji Miyaguchi, Isao Kimura, Minoru Chiaki, Daisuki Kato, and Yoshio Inaba. There have been several books, movies, and television shows which have been inspired by (some might even say "rip-offs of") The Seven Samurai, most notably The Magnificent Seven, The Mystery Men, Battle Beyond The Stars, and Star Wars: The Clone Wars (Season 2, Episode 17).**

 **Conan The Barbarian & Conan The Destroyer** **: Conan The Barbarian was a 1982 movie starring Arnold Schwarzenegger based on the stories and characters created by Robert E Howard. The movie was written and directed by John Milius, produced by Dino DeLaurentis, and distributed by Universal Pictures. It also starred Gerry Lopez, Sandahl Bergman, Mako, and James Earl Jones. The 1984 sequel, Conan The Destroyer, was written by Stanley Mann and was directed by Richard Fleischer. In addition to Arnold Schwarzenegger it also featured performances by Olivia D'Abo, Wilt Chamberlan, Sarah Douglas, Grace Jones, and Tracey Walter.**

 **The Beastmaster** **: The Beastmaster is a 1982 movie written and directed by Don Coscarelli and produced by Paul Pepperman. It was loosely based on a science fiction novel by the same name written by Andre Norton, and was distributed by Metro Goldwyn Mayer and United Artists. It starred Marc Singer in the title role.**

 **Red Sonja** **: Red Sonja is a 1985 movie loosely based on the character of Red Sonja, based on the work of Marvel Comics writer Roy Thomas and artist Barry Smith, who loosely based the character on characters and stories created by Robert E Howard. The movie was produced by Dino DeLaurentis, written by Clive Exton & George MacDonald Fraser, and directed by Richard Fleischer. The film starred Brigette Nielsen in the title role, and was distributed by MGM & United Artists.**

 **Deathstalker** **: Deathstalker is a 1983 film directed by James Sbardellati (credited as John Watson), written by Howard R Cohen, and produced by Roger Corman. It starred Richard Hill in the title role, and was distributed by New World Pictures. The film was based on a painting by famed artist Frank Frazetta (who also painted several famous pictures of Conan The Barbarian) and spawned several sequels (all of which had little if any connection to the other films in the series and different actors starring in the title role each time, with the exception of Part 4 which also starred Richard Hill).**

 **Willow** **: Willow is a 1988 film starring Warwick Davis and Val Kilmer. It was written and produced by George Lucas, and directed by Ron Howard. It was distributed by Metro Goldwyn Mayer.**

 **With the exception of the original characters written specifically for this story, all characters in this story belong to the above mentioned copyright holders. I own nothing but the stories in my head. This story was written out of love for the above films and their characters, not for profit. No money has changed hands in the creation of this tale. As such no copyright laws have been violated, intentionally or otherwise. Please don't sue me, as I cannot afford to pay anyone any royalties.**

 **Universal Pictures presents**

 **In association with Metro Goldwyn Mayer**

 **And United Artists**

 **A Dino DeLaurentis Film**

 **Directed by John Milius**

 _ **The Seven Swords**_

 _ **Of**_

 _ **Conan The Barbarian**_

 **Starring** _ **:**_

 **Arnold Schwarzenegger as Conan**

 **Marc Singer as Dar**

 **Brigette Nielsen as Red Sonja**

 **Dolph Lundgren as Deathstalker**

 **Val Kilmer as Madmartigan**

 **Al Leong as Subotai**

 **Tracey Walter as Malak**

 **George Peppard as Kaylar**

 **Dean Cain as Shad**

 **Nicole Eggart as Nanelia**

 **The Juns:**

 **Brian Thompson as Karak**

 **Kevin Nash as Dako**

 **Donald Gibb as Kalo**

 **Vin Diesel as Tembo**

 **Jesse Ventura as Braxus**

 **"El Gigante" Jose Gonzalez as The Berserker**

 **Sven-Ole Thorsen as Gar**

 **Vernon Wells as Strobo**

 **Peter Paul as Dak**

 **David Paul as Brog**

 **Bolo Yeung as Kassar**

 **Kane Hodder as Janos**

 **The Other Juns:**

 **Ben Davidson; Clancy Brown; Randal "Tex" Cobb; Ralf Moeller; Lou Ferrigno; Eric Allen; Ken Kirzinger; Richard Brooker; Steve Dash; CJ Graham; Kevin Sorbo; Pat Roach; Ted White; Tom Morga; and Kevin Tod Smith.**

 **Chapter One**

 **A Village In Peril**

 _Between the years when the oceans drank Atlantis and the rise of the sons of Aryus, there was an age undreamed of. When shining kingdoms lay spread across the land. Hither came Conan, the Cimmerian, sword in hand, to tread the jeweled thrones of the Earth beneath his sandalled feet. Destined to become king by his own hand and wear the jeweled crown of Aquilonia upon a troubled brow. It is I, his Chronicler, who alone can tell thee of his saga. Let me tell you of a tale of high adventure . . . ._

Far to the north of the great city of Aruk, where the young King Tal rules with a firm yet just hand, at the very edge of His Majesty's realm, there lies a valley. The valley is fed by a clear and swift stream, causing the land to grow rich with life. Plants of many varieties grow here. Because of this many animals which depend on those plants for shelter and sustenance dwell here, as do the predators who prey upon those animals. And nestled within the heart of this valley is a tiny farming village. Most people in Aruk have likely never heard of it. It doesn't even appear on most maps of the area. The people who live there call the village Akir. And while the land is fertile, it is also not very flat, making farming difficult but not impossible. Between raising crops and livestock such as sheep, goats, swine, and chickens, one can scratch out a fairly comfortable life for themselves. One can even add fresh fish from the stream to his dinner table if he were so inclined.

It is a warm late spring day, and the Akira are hard at work doing their daily chores. They had just finished planting their fields the week before, and were now maintaining them so that the crops will grow strong and plentiful. Village elder, Kayman, looks on with pride as his son, Shad, and daughter, Nanelia, work side by side. Shad is a young man of twenty winters. He is tall and handsome, physically fit from a lifetime of hard work in the field and around the house. Shad is chopping firewood with an ax, preparing for the evening meal. Nanelia is younger than her brother, only fifteen winters old. A mere few months ago she was just a slip of a girl. She has filled out almost over night into a beautiful young woman, with an angelic face which would make the goddess Ishtar herself green with envy. The girl is stacking the wood after her brother splits it. She looks over at her father and smiles. The look brings equal parts joy and pain to Kaylar. He is amazed at how much Nanelia looks like her mother, now more than ever. But that only reminds Kaylar of what he has lost. Nanelia's birth was a difficult one, which her mother did not survive. As Nanelia took her first breath fifteen winters ago, her mother exhaled her last.

Kaylar smiled back, and then turned away to observe the rest of the village as well as to hide the pain in his eyes from his daughter. Unlike most of the Akira, Kaylar was not originally of the village. He was once a high ranking member of King Zed's Royal Guard, second in command behind the king's personal bodyguard Seth. Kaylar had been assigned to command a group of soldiers guarding a merchant caravan. The caravan was attacked by the Barbarian Juns. In those days the Juns were a menace, but not the threat that they would later become. During the fighting, a Jun warrior had struck down Kaylar's horse out from under him with a well placed spear in the beast's chest. Kaylar's foot got caught in the stirrup of his saddle and the horse came down on his leg, breaking his leg in three places as well as his hip. The Jun barbarian drew his sword and was about to slay the commander, when Kaylar brought his crossbow to bear and fired a crossbow bolt right through the eye slot of the Jun's helmet and into his brain. Encouraged by their commander's sure skill even under such extraordinary circumstances, Kaylar's troops rallied around him and successfully repelled the Jun raiders.

Kaylar's men carried him back to Aruk where he was hailed a hero. King Zed himself presented Kaylar with The Golden Phoenix, the highest honor available in the kingdom. Ironically, the shot that won him the medal was a complete fluke. Kaylar was completely blinded by the pain of his broken leg. He didn't even consciously aim the crossbow at his attacker. It was just pure luck (or perhaps divine intervention if the great god Bori was feeling generous with his favors that day) that allowed him to land such a perfect killing blow. In any event, the fall from his horse had given Kaylar a permanent limp, ending his military career. With his Golden Phoenix and a small sack of gold, Kaylar rode out to the village of Akir. He had traveled through the village a few times in the past while collecting taxes for King Zed, and found it quaint and peaceful. So he returned in order to set down roots. He bought some land. Built a house. Took a wife. And then built a family.

It was a few years later that King Zed had banished the mad priest Maax from the kingdom of Aruk. Maax then united the various Jun factions under his banner and used their combined might to conquer Aruk and imprison King Zed within his own dungeon. The Akira were blissfully unaware of any of this. Their valley was far enough out of the way to be of any consequence to Maax or the Juns, and their village was hardly wealthy enough to seek out. The return of Prince Tal and Seth, the murder of King Zed, the death of Maax, the final battle against the Juns, these things all came and went with the Akira being none the wiser. A heavy bell ringing breaks Kaylar out of his contemplations.

"Juns!" shouts Kaylar.

Immediately the Akira run for cover. Children run and hide in their homes. Kaylar turns to his daughter. "Nanelia!" he says, "Get in the house!"

"But I want to stay with you!" she protests.

"Do as I say child!"

"Go on," says her brother with a calmness he didn't truly feel, "We'll be all right."

Nanelia bites back another protest and does as she's asked. Kaylar limps to the head of the gathered farmers. The Akira were no longer ignorant of the events beyond their borders. They had learned that the Jun Horde was decimated by the defenders of Aruk (who had set fire to the moat of tar that surrounds their city) who were aided by a group of mysterious allies. Not all of the Juns had been slain in that defeat. Some of them had taken refuge in the mountains just north of the valley where the Akira live. Presumably they were joined later by the Jun women and the youths who were not yet of age to ride into battle. Their numbers have not reached the level they were at under the rule of Maax. And old rivalries between the various Jun factions may have resurfaced. But now, years later, this Jun faction has grown large enough to pose a serious threat. Not to a major city like Aruk perhaps. But a village like Akir? The villagers number just over one hundred, including women and children. Kaylar has estimated that the Juns have at least twice that many warriors ready for battle. The old soldier steels himself for what is to come.

For the past few years the Juns have been extorting the Akira of their crops and livestock. When the barbarians first came, some of the young men in the village had attempted to fight them off. The Juns butchered the Akira men who had tried to fight them and abducted their women, and then they took most of the crops and livestock anyway. Ever since then the Akira have been paying the Juns their tribute without argument. Always before the Juns had simply attacked their prey, killed everyone, and then help themselves to the spoils. This new Jun leader was more ambitious. A monster of a man named Karak, he was as cunning as he was cruel. Unlike his predecessors, Karak understands the long term benefits of subjugating a people like the Akira rather than slaughtering them wholesale. By extorting them for food the Juns are able to devote their energies towards other things, such as rebuilding their numbers.

The Juns ride into the village, Karak in the lead. He is difficult to miss. Aside from his size and powerful build, Karak's weapons and armor are very distinct. His bronze helmet has a set of ram horns set in its sides. The face guard of the helmet comes down to his upper lip, and is designed to look like a human skull. His chest is protected by a stiff leather piece with a bronze plate riveted over top as added protection. The bronze plate has the image of a pair of bones crossed over his chest engraved into it. It is held in place by a set of shoulder plates, made of bronze and designed to look like human skulls. His arms are bare except for his bronze plated bracers, which run from his wrists to nearly his elbows. He wears a leather loincloth underneath a bronze codpiece. His boots are made of heavy leather, and he wears bronze shin guards from his ankles to his knees. Karak's chest armor is designed to leave his belly exposed, showing off his chiseled abdominal muscles. Belted to Karak's hip is a frightening looking bastard sword, with a brass crossguard and a handle crafted out of an actual human femur. Even more frightening is the huge double bladed great-ax he wears strapped to his back. There are over a score of the barbarians accompanying the Jun leader. The Juns rein their mounts to a halt, and then Karak and about a dozen of his men dismount. He stands in front of Kaylar, towering over the smaller man.

"You're early," says Kaylar, hoping that he is successful in keeping the fear out of his voice, "We weren't expecting you until the Autumn Equinox."

"Kaylar," says the Jun leader in mock dismay, "I'm hurt. We haven't come for your tribute. This is a courtesy visit."

"Since when do Juns have any courtesy?" blurts out Shad. Kaylar quickly holds up a hand to silence him.

"Your boy has a sharp tongue, Kaylar," says Karak, "He'd best be careful lest it get him in trouble."

"The boy is young," says Kaylar, "He speaks from the heart rather than the head. But he is not wrong. Since our . . . .arrangement . . . .began, you have never once set foot in our village out of courtesy. So that begs the question, why are you here?"

"The Spring Equinox has come and gone," replies Karak, "The Summer Solstice quickly approaches. And yet my scouts tell me that you have barely begun your planting."

"You should tell your scouts to pay closer attention, and to more than just the goings on in our village," Kaylar tells him, "The winter was unusually harsh this year. The snowfall was higher than I have ever seen it, and the winds felt much colder. The spring melt came late, and when it did come the rains were exceptionally heavy. It is only recently that the weather has eased up enough to allow for planting the fields. And had your scouts truly been paying attention, they would have told you that we just finished planting our fields a few days ago. All that's left is maintenance."

"Good to know," says Karak, "But the question remains, will you be able to pay me my tribute on time?"

"It might take us a few weeks longer to harvest because of the delay," says Kaylar, "but you will have your tribute."

Just then a flash of movement catches Karak's eye. He glances over to Kaylar's house and spots Nanelia peaking out through the animal hide curtain hanging in the doorway. When she realizes that he had seen her, Nanelia ducks out of sight. But she was too late. Karak heaves an exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

"Kaylar," he says as he shakes his head, "That is not our arrangement. You are supposed to hand over your tribute within the first week of autumn. Three extra weeks brings us dangerously close to the beginning of winter. It gets mighty cold in the mountains then."

"I understand that," says Kaylar, "but my people cannot control the weather."

"Of course," replies Karak, "And my people don't expect you to. But the delay is going to cost you."

"Cost us?" he asks, "Cost us what? You've already taken most of everything we have. We're on the edge of starvation. What else can you possibly take?"

"Oh," says Karak, "I'm sure you have _something_ that we can use."

With that, Karak signals for one of his men to go into Kaylar's home. The old soldier suddenly has a panicked expression, as he begins to understand just what the cost of the delay might be. There's the sound of clay dishes smashing on the dirt floor, and then Nanelia screaming. The Jun barbarian exits the house with the girl slung over his shoulder, kicking and screaming. Karak grabs Kaylar by the shoulder in a parody of a friendly gesture.

"Kaylar," he says in an aproximation of kindness, "You've been holding out on me."

"Please," says Kaylar quietly, "Please don't. She is just a child."

"Not for much longer."

The leader of the Juns begins walking towards his warrior and the struggling girl. "Take off her clothes!" he shouts. The Jun warrior obediently throws the girl to the ground and begins tearing her dress from her body.

"NO!" screams Shad and he runs to try and protect his sister. One of the Juns, armed with a heavy wooden club, drives his weapon into the boy's belly, doubling him over and forcing the air from his lungs. The Jun warrior then raises the club up over his head and brings it down onto Shad's back. There's an audible _crunch_ as the club breaks the boy's ribs. The Jun barbarian raises his club to finish Shad off.

"STOP!" shouts Karak, and the Jun holds his hand in check, "Let the boy live! But make him watch!"

A cruel grin spreads across the face of the Jun warrior. He tosses his club aside and kneels down on Shad's back, placing the point of his knee right on top of the boy's injured ribs. The Jun grabs Shad's left arm and twists it behind his back, pulling until he hears the bone snap. Shad screams in pain. The barbarian then grabs a handful of the boy's hair and pulls his head back, keeping his face looking at his sister.

Karak strolls casually over to his warrior and Nanelia. The girl is now naked and being held down, lying prone on her back with her wrists being held up over her head. She kicks and screams and tries to twist away, but to no avail. Karak stands over her, savoring her distress. Then he removes his codpiece and tosses it aside. He kneels down, grabs Nanelia by the legs, and forces her thighs apart. He pulls down his loincloth and then forces himself inside of her. The girl cries out in pain, humiliation and terror as the leader of the Juns violates her body. Karak begins a rhythmic pelvic thrust, slowly at first, but gradually building up speed and intensity. Nanelia cries with every thrust, begging him to stop. Kaylar and the rest of the village watch in stunned silence as the daughter of the village leader is brutally raped. Finally, in what seems like forever, but in truth was probably only a few minutes, Karak gives a satisfied moan as he climaxes inside of her.

"That was pretty good," he tells her. Then he turns to the barbarian who is holding her down. "Put her on my horse."

Karak gets to his feet and pulls up his loincloth. He then putls his codpiece back on as he walks over to Kaylar. Tears stream down the old man's face as he watches his beloved daughter, naked and violated, be hoisted up into the saddle of Karak's horse. "Why so sad?" asks the Jun leader with a laugh, "Your son will live, and your daughter just bought you a whole extra month to harvest your crops and pay me my tribute. Today is a _good_ day!"

With that he walks away laughing. Karak climbs up into the saddle of his horse behind Nanelia, holding her close and then spurring his mount to gallop away. The Juns obediently follow their leader into the mountains, and the Akira to their misery.

 **Author's Note:**

 _Some of you might have noticed that I had borrowed a lot of elements from_ Battle Beyond The Stars _in my story (naming the village_ Akir _, the names of some of the main characters, etc). This is mostly because as a kid, my first introduction to Kurasawa's masterpiece was Roger Corman's sci-fi version. And despite being incredibly cheap, cheesy, and a shameless attempt to cash in on the popularity of_ Star Wars, _it has long been a favorite film of mine. So I wanted to pay tribute to it in my story. Which is also why I cast one of the films stars (George Peppard) as the leader of the Akira people._

 _Also, I sometimes have difficulty creating new names for original characters and places in my stories. Especially in high fantasy/sci-fi settings. Using previously made up names is just easier. So it's one part tribute, one part cop-out (lol)._

 _You may also have noticed that I have recast some of the main characters. Most notably, Gerry Lopez has been replaced by Al Leong in the role of Subotai, and Richard Hill has been replaced by Dolph Lundgren in the role of Deathstalker. While I have no problem with Gerry's performance in Conan, I have always thought that the role should have gone to someone of Asian descent. I also think that Al Leong has been sorely misused in film and television, often getting few to no lines and usually playing a disposable (though fairly tough) villain. As for Dolph Lundgren as Deathstalker, there are two reasons. First, as I had mentioned in the disclaimer above, in the movies Roger Corman would cast a different actor in the title role in each movie. So I figured it would keep with the established pattern if I were to recast the character once again. Also, had this story actually been made as a movie with these characters, it would have had to come out in 1989 or later, as_ Willow _came out in 1988. And in the late '80s/early '90s Hollywood was trying to push Dolph Lundgren as the next big action star (The Punisher, Red Scorpion, Masters Of The Universe, I Come In Peace, Showdown In Little Tokyo, etc). So I figure if Roger Corman_ was _going to make a_ Deathstalker _movie at that time, he might very well have cast Dolph in the title role._


	2. A Cry For Help

**Chapter Two**

 **A Cry For Help**

The following day, Akira's counsel of elders has gathered in Kaylar's home. Kaylar sits in a high backed wooden chair next to the hearth. His son, Shad, kneels by the old soldier's side. Shad's left arm is bound with a splint, and is held across his chest in a sling. His ribs are heavily bandaged, and he winces with every movement. The elders are all shouting over each other, arguing about what must be done.

"We must do something!" exclaims one man, a skinny fellow named Nestor, "We cannot let this stand!"

"What do you suggest?" asks another, a strong yet aged farmer named Min.

"We fight them!" replies Nestor.

"Fight them?" cries an old woman named Mol, "Are you mad? Have you forgotten what happened the last time we tried to fight them? Every man who raised a weapon against them was put to the sword, and their wives and daughters were taken and haven't been seen since!"

"I've not forgotten," says Nestor soberly, "My own son was one of those slain. His wife and daughter taken."

"We are farmers," adds another man, a fellow named Gar, "not soldiers! Even if every man, woman, and child in the village were to take up arms against the Juns, we would surely be slaughtered!"

"My father was a soldier!" protests Shad, "And a good one too! He can train us!"

"No, my son," says Kaylar, "I'm afraid that is not the solution."

"But father. . . ."

"The Juns have the village under constant watch. Karak's scouts would get word back to him long before any of you would be ready for battle. Even if I could train you all to be competent fighters, The Juns are bred for battle. You would be out matched. You will never develop a warrior's instincts in time to be able to defend the village."

"So what then?" asks Nestor, "Ask King Tal to send us troops?" He snorts in disgust, "Remember what happened the last time?"

Kaylar lets out a sigh. He indeed remembers what happened the last time they had requested military aid from King Tal. Kaylar had traveled himself to the city of Aruk to make their request. King Tal was sympathetic to his plight, but could not provide a permanent garrison to such a small village located so far from the city. Seth, however, remembered Kaylar from their days together in the service of King Zed, and was able to at least grant him a company of soldiers to protect the village during the harvest and while bringing their crops to market. The Juns didn't attack that season, and the crops and livestock brought the village a tidy profit. However the soldiers did not return with the farmers after taking their wares to market, and that is when the Juns attacked. Many of the young men were killed as punishment for the Akira's defiance, and their women abducted. Kaylar realized then that Karak was far more cunning than he, Seth, or King Tal had given him credit for. The Juns did not attack while the soldiers were in the village because while they could wipe the entire village of Akir off the face of the Earth without King Tal or anyone in Aruk even taking notice, had they slaughtered a whole company of Aruk soldiers, then King Tal would have sought retribution. And the Juns numbers were not yet sufficient to defeat an army of trained, skilled, armed soldiers. That is why they were forcing the Akira to work as slaves. To provide them with food and women enough to replenish their numbers. Yet Kaylar knows too that this makes now the perfect time to strike back. Before they have outlived their usefulness and the Juns' numbers are too great for them to be easily stopped.

"I have not forgotten what happened the last time we sought help," says Kaylar, "But help we must have. Before the Juns have always used the threat of violence to keep us subjugated, only making good on their threats if or when we tried to defy them. Their violation of Nanelia," he pauses as the rage and sorrow over what happened to his daughter becomes overwhelming. Once he has composed himself, he continues, "Their violation of Nanelia was unprovoked. There was no defiance, only bad weather. This tells me that our usefulness to them may be nearing it's end. If we don't get help soon, the Juns will come down this valley and wipe us out! Maybe not this harvest. Maybe not next harvest. But soon!"

"So if we can't fight them ourselves," says Nestor, "and the Juns won't attack King Tal's men in fear of stirring up a hornets nest, then who do we get to help us?"

"We hire mercenaries," replies Kaylar.

"Mercenaries?!" exclaim several of those gathered at once.

"That's insane!" says Gar.

"Why?" asks Kaylar, "Why is it insane?"

"For one thing, how are we to pay them? Mercenaries don't work for free you know!"

"We will pool our resources," says Kaylar, "Gather everything of value in the village, down to the last coin."

"Most of the coins in the village are copper!" says Gar, "And those few that aren't are silver! You're probably the only one of us who has even seen a gold coin! What mercenary will fight for so little pay?"

"A hungry one," replies Kaylar, "We will offer them food and shelter in addition to whatever financial rewards we can offer them."

"If a mercenary has to go hungry, than he can't be very good at his job!"

"Just because no one is hiring soldiers, doesn't mean that the soldiers who are available aren't for hire. Besides, we have more here to offer than just food, shelter, and a fist full of coppers."

"What else can you offer them?" asks Gar, "The Juns have already taken your daughter!"

Kaylar's eyes flare with anger. The old farmer shrinks back as he realizes he has crossed the line with that last remark. The look on his face clearly shows that he doesn't know whether or not the old soldier is going to throttle him. Kaylar might be old and his leg might be crippled, but there is nothing wrong with his arms. He could still swing a staff (or a sword for that matter) with enough force to split a man's skull. Kaylar quickly regains his composure, however, to Gar's great relief.

"I'm sorry," says Gar quietly, "I shouldn't have said that."

"It's quite all right," replies Kaylar, "You are right that there is very little of monetary value in the village. But there is this," and he pulls out his Golden Phoenix medallion.

"Father, no!" cries Shad.

Kaylar holds up his hand to silence his son. "This is solid gold, and is worth a great deal more than all of the coins in the village put together."

"But Father," says Shad, "That medallion is your legacy. It shows that you were a great and brave soldier."

"All this shows is that I got off a lucky shot with my crossbow during a skirmish with some Jun raiders," says Kaylar, "You are my legacy. You and your sister." Kaylar then pulls out a silver necklace with green gemstones set in it. "This necklace belonged to my mother, long ago," he says, "The stones are emeralds, set in platinum. It is worth far more gold than my Golden Phoenix. I gave this to my wife the day I married her. I was going to give it to Nanelia when she married. Now I doubt that she'll ever want a man to touch her ever again, even if we can get her back. These should be enough to buy the services of some mercenaries capable of defending us."

The other elders all look around at each other. Mol takes a thin chain from around her neck and lifts it up over her head. She holds it out to Kaylar. Dangling from the chain is a piece of amber set in silver. Inside the amber, preserved for all eternity, is a tiny spider. "My husband gave this to me when we were young," she says, "I don't know how much it is worth. But maybe it will buy the services of a strong warrior."

Nestor pulls a ring off of his finger and hands it to Kaylar. "That belonged to my father, and to his father before him. I had wanted to give it to my son. But maybe you can buy a mercenary with it."

Kaylar looks at the ring. It's made of plain steel, practically worthless. However the design is magnificent. It is made to look like a dragon coiled about the finger. The detail and craftsmanship are exquisite. That alone makes the ring worth at least a few coins. One by one, each of the village elders donates a personal item to fund the purchase of a mercenary. Ivory scrimshaw, bits of jewelry, family heirlooms. Anything and everything with any monetary value is handed over. Word spreads through the village, and others are soon bringing their treasures to Kayman's home. Those with no jewelry or items of worth bring whatever coins they have. Soon all of the wealth of the village is piled up on the dining table of Kaylar and Shad. Shad begins packing the coins and other wealth into two bags. Kaylar places a gentle hand upon his son's shoulder.

"I want you to leave at first light," he tells his son, "Take Gelt to the creek, and then follow it south towards Aruk."

"That mule hates me," complains Shad.

"That's because you used to tease him when you were little," says Kaylar, "But he'll get you to Aruk much quicker than by walking."

"Are you sure the Juns won't figure out what I'm doing?"

"You will be taking your trident with you," replies his father, "With any luck they will think you're going fishing. After all, how much work can you do in the fields with a broken arm?"

"But Aruk is many days ride from here. If I'm gone too long. . . ."

"You're trying to spear fish with only one arm," interrupts Kaylar, "Obviously you will be away from the village for longer. Don't worry. If the Juns return before you do, I'll figure something out."

Shad doesn't feel any better about leaving, but he cannot argue with his father. He takes to his bed and settles in for a restless sleep. The next morning he wakes up and prepares to leave. He breakfasts on bread and eggs, and then packs up his belongings. In addition to the bag of coins and the bag of trinkets, he also takes a leather sling and a pouch full of sling stones, a hunting knife, a hatchet, and of course his trident. Kaylar packs a couple of loafs of bread and a wheel of cheese into his pack, as well as some dried meat. Shad mounts Gelt, who brays in protest. While it takes a fair amount of coaxing, the mule finally begins trotting away from the village and towards the creek. High up in the hills, hidden in the trees, a trio of Juns are observing the village. Two of them can barely make out any details as to what's going on. The third is equipped with an Eagle's Eye*, an alchemist's device which allows the user to view people from far away as though they were very close. It is made of a conical tube of stiff leather with a large crystal set in the wide end. Turning the crystal to look through different facets changes the level of magnification.

"Well now," says Tembo, the Jun with the Eagle's Eye.

"What is it?" asks Dako, a monstrously tall Jun who stands at least a head taller than most of his companions.

"That boy whose arm you broke," he replies, "He just rode off on some mangy mule."

"Where's he going?" asks Kalo, the other Jun.

"Looks like he's going fishing," says Tembo, "He's heading towards the creek and he has his trident with him."

"Should we tell Karak?" asks Kalo.

"Tell him what?" asks Tembo, "That a one armed boy can't farm anymore so he's gone fishing instead?"

"But what if he isn't going fishing?" asks Kalo, "What if he's coming after us?"

"Then we'll bring his head back to Kaylar on a spike, then go home and rape his daughter!"

The three of them laugh at the pleasant thought, and then resume their duties watching the village. While any one of their horses could easily catch up to Shad's mule, not one of the Juns had the nerve to disobey an order from Karak. And Karak's orders were very clear. They were only to sit and watch the village, and report any unusual activity. And a boy going fishing hardly seemed unusual.

All Juns are fierce warriors, and have been since the before recorded history. The Jun nation had always been divided into factions, which warred with one another nearly as much as with their more civilized neighbors. As such, warfare had become a way of life for the Juns. It is said that Jun children begin to train as warriors as soon as they can walk. But the Juns are as superstitious as they are savage. Thus when Maax and his coven of witch-women came to them with the priests of Ar, they were cowed by the might of their magic. As such, Maax was able to unite the factions under his leadership. The mad priest then had the leaders of each faction battle each other to the death in order to determine who would lead the Jun Horde. The man who won the contest, a powerful warrior named Sador, was declared Horde Master by Maax. The night of his victory, one of the witch-women placed a spell on Sador to make him see her as the perfect, most desirable woman. She laid with him that night, then left him with the firm knowledge that she was with child. Nine months later she gave birth to a baby boy and named him Karak. While he was growing up, he was raised to be a warrior, just as all Jun males are. But the superstitious Juns, knowing of his mother's mystical powers, see him as something more. And thus they fear him on a far more primal level than just for his skill with sword or ax. And while his skill with both sword and ax are reason enough to fear him, his razor sharp mind and ruthlessness make him even more frightening. Thus none of the Juns would ever dare cross him.

So Shad rides off on his mule, suspecting but not fully aware that he is being watched. He rides to the creek, as his father had advised, and follows it to the south. He stops at midday and spears some fish with his trident. Cleaning them proves to be a challenge, as he only has the use of one hand, but he is able to have fresh fish for his supper that night. He camps out under the stars, and then continues on at dawn. It takes several days, but eventually Shad rides out of the valley. A few days later Shad arrives at the gates of the walled town of Haven. While not a major city by any means, it seems huge in comparison to the tiny village of Akir. Wooden palisades stand defensively along Haven's perimeter, protecting the near one thousand civilians and three score soldiers assigned to defend the town. This is where the Akira take their wares to trade. The town has an inn known as _The Lazy Cock_ where travelers can spend the night, and a tavern where one can wash the trail dust from their throat with a pint of ale (in fact, they're the same place). Shad rides his mule through the gates and heads to the inn. Hanging above the door is a wooden sign with the picture of a sleeping rooster and the words _The Lazy Cock_ written around it in bold letters. The young farmer ties his mule, Gelt, next to the animal trough and steps up onto the covered front porch. Just as Shad is about to step through the inn's front door, he hears a loud crash from above.

"Crom's blood!" cries a loud and powerful voice.

Suddenly there is a second crash, followed by the sound of something hitting the roof of the front porch and rolling down its slope. Shad's jaw drops open as he sees a stunningly beautiful black haired woman fall from the roof and land in the animal trough with a splash. Gelt the mule brays in protest, but cannot flee as his reins are tethered to the support post. The woman scrambles out of the water, wearing not a stitch of clothing and clutching a most peculiar looking dagger. It is designed to look like twin snakes coiling about one another, the tips of their tails forming a double pointed blade while their heads turn away from each other forming the weapon's cross guard. The woman turns towards Shad and hisses at him like a viper.

As the woman was scrambling out of the water trough, Shad heard another sound from above. This time it sounded like footsteps, as if someone had leapt from the window and was running down the slope of the roof (which is precisely what was happening). A large and heavily muscled naked man, with long raven black hair and bronzed skin, leaps from the roof and lands in front of the woman just as she hisses at Shad. In the man's hand he wields a large and heavily used bastard sword, with an ornate bronze hilt. The woman immediately turns her attention to the man with the sword. Shad now sees that the man is wounded. There are two puncture wounds, side by side, in the bronzed warrior's shoulder, as though he had been bitten by a large serpent. Even to one with no real combat experience such as Shad, it is obvious what kind of weapon made those wounds. "By Crom you will regret stabbing me like that, woman!" he snarls.

"Nay, Cimmerian!" calls another voice from across the street. They turn and see a man in black robes ride a white horse out from the alley between two buildings across the street. The man's robes are trimmed with white cloth, which is embroidered with images of serpents in red. He wears a jade pendant around his neck of two snakes coming together, facing each other over a sun and a moon, yet their bodies are one. "It is you who will regret murdering the great Thulsa Doom!" as he says this, six men in armor, all carrying shields and either swords or axes. Their shields all bear the same symbol worn around the neck of the priest of Set.

"Thulsa Doom can rot in Hell!" replies the Cimmerian, "Him and his evil snake god!"

"Set will devour your soul for your blasphemy!" shouts the man in robes.

"You will be cursing Thulsa Doom and Set to their faces for this meeting, Priest!"

The priest points his finger at the Cimmerian. "Kill him!" he shouts.

A soldier armed with a battle ax charges at the Cimmerian with his weapon held high, in an overhead strike. The naked warrior sidesteps the attack and swings his bronze hilted sword at the incoming weapon. But rather than parrying the attack by striking the ax, the raven haired warrior lops off the attacker's weapon hand at the wrist. The warrior looks at the stump of his wrist where his hand once was, too shocked to scream in pain. His blood pumps out of his wrist like a macabre fountain. The naked Cimmerian quickly steps in behimd the man and slashes him across the back, putting him out of his misery.

The next warrior attacks the Cimmerian with sword and shield. The Cimmerian parries the sword attack, sweeping the man's sword arm out wide. Then he grips his bastard sword's hilt with both hands and strikes the edge of the warrior's shield. The warrior's shield arm goes wide, as he was not expecting such inhuman strength from a blow such as that. The Cimmerian quickly changes his sword's direction and slashes the Set worshiper across the belly. The injured man drops his sword and grabs his belly in a desperate attempt to keep his guts from spilling out onto the dusty ground. The Cimmerian reverses the direction of his sword once more and decapitates the soldier of Set.

Another Set worshiper lets out a battle cry and charges the Cimmerian. The naked swordsman sidesteps the attack, moves behind the soldier, and slashes him across the back from left shoulder to right hip, practically cutting the man in two.

Another soldier of Set tries charging the Cimmerian with weapon raised and a battle cry on his lips. The naked warrior drops to a knee and takes his opponent's legs out from under him, literally. Both of the Set worshiper's legs are severed below the knee. He lies on his belly, screaming in anguish as his life's blood pours from the stumps of his legs.

The last two soldiers of Set try attacking the Cimmerian together, one from either side. One soldier charges the naked Cimmerian from behind, his ax held high to strike, while the other attacks from the front thrusting with his sword. The Cimmerian sidesteps the swordsman's attack, causing him to run his own companion through. Before the Set worshiper can even pull his blade free from his friend's belly, the Cimmerian takes both of their heads with a single two handed swing of his bastard sword.

All of this takes place in a manner of seconds. The priest of Set, seeing that his best men had been defeated with ease, turns his horse about and spurs it into a gallop and flees. Seeing this, the Cimmerian tosses his sword up into the air, catches it by the blunt of the blade just above the bronze cross guard, and then hurls the weapon at the departing priest as though it were a javelin. The sword flies through the air and pierces the priest's back with amazing accuracy, driving the blade through his spine with enough force to burst forth out of his chest. The priest of Set topples from his mount and crashes into the heaps of refuse laying piled up in the alley.

With the Cimmerian now standing not only naked but also unarmed, the naked woman creeps up behind him with her dagger poised to strike. "Watch out!" cries Shad. The woman of Set tries to stab the Cimmerian in an over head downward strike. The Cimmerian spins around, catches her weapon hand by the wrist, redirects the attack, and drives the twin pointed blade into the woman's belly.

"I'll see you in Hell," she gasps.

"Tell them Conan sent you," replies the Cimmerian. Then he grabs her by the head, his right hand on her chin and his left hand, reaching around her head from behind, grasping her forehead. And then with a sudden flex of his corded muscles, he snaps her neck. There's a loud, sickening _crunch_ as her vertebrae become a collection of splinters and her body goes limp. She falls to the dirt, her breasts pointing up at the cloudless spring sky, the hilt of her dagger sticking up from her belly. Her eyes stare sightlessly at the ground as her nose is pressed firmly against the earth, her head turned completely around from front to back.

The giant black haired Cimmerian, Conan he had said his name was, casually walks over to the fallen priest and retrieves his sword. He then walks just as casually back to _The Lazy Cock,_ as though cutting down eight people in the street was just another day to him. He doesn't even seem to care about the fact that he's naked. Conan strides past Shad and walks back into the inn. Shad quickly follows the Cimmerian into the common room.

"Hey! You! Wait!" he calls, "Cimmerian! Conan!" Conan finally stops and turns to regard him. "I want to hire you."

Conan looks Shad over. "No," he says.

"No?" asks Shad, "Why not?"

"I don't bed boys," replies the Cimmerian.

"What? No! I didn't mean anything like _that!_ I'm looking to hire mercenaries to defend my village from an invasion. You just single killed eight people, single handed, while _naked_ no less. Surely you could defend a village!"

"Do you have any money?"

"Some."

"Buy us a couple of ales. We'll talk." Then Conan turns and walks towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" asks Shad.

Conan turns and looks at Shad as though the young farmer were crazy. "To get dressed of course," he replies, "Don't worry, I'll be back."

Shad sits down at an empty table and orders two tankards of ale. Almost as soon as the ales are delivered to the table, Shad sees Conan coming down the stairs. The Cimmerian is clad in a wolf skin loin cloth, matching fur boots, and a pair of studded leather bracers on his wrist. His bastard sword is sheathed and worn slung across his back. He carries a bronze war helmet with fur lining the inside and a pair of bull's horns set in its sides. Belted to his right hip is a dagger which is almost large enough to be classified as a sword, and on his left hip is a money pouch. Hanging on a leather thong around his neck is a great red jewel, The Eye Of The Serpent. And strung on that same leather thong, evenly spaced at about two finger widths apart each, are a set of cruel looking fangs. These were the teeth of the avatar of Dagoth, The Dreaming God, Lord of Nightmares, which Conan had slain in Shadizar. Conan came over to the table and took the ale which was waiting for him.

"So," says the Cimmerian, "What's your offer?"

"My name is Shad," begins the farm boy, "I'm from the village of Akir. We need you to help defend us from the barbarian Juns. They have been taking most of our crops and livestock for the past five or six years."

"How much are you offering?"

"We've taken up a collection," says Shad, and he places his bag of coins on the table in front of Conan, "Most of our wealth is in our land and our culture. But whatever material wealth we have is yours if you'll help us."

Conan looks into the bag and is disappointed, although not surprised, to find mostly coppers and a handful of silver inside. Although he was pleasantly surprised to find a few gold coins as well, minted with the symbol of Aruk on one side and the holy symbol of Ar on the other. "You plan to hire mercenaries with just this?" he asks. "You can't be serious."

"We also have this," replies Shad, and he hands Conan the other bag full of jewelry and family heirlooms, "I hesitated to show it to you because I don't know if a should trust you."

"You shouldn't," says Conan, "At least not until we've agreed on a contract." Conan opens the second bag and looks inside. Most of the stuff in there is nearly worthless, with a value of a few silver pieces each, or maybe a gold piece each at the very most. There are a few exceptions, like the amber necklace for one, and the Golden Phoenix medallion for another. He smiles at the young farmer. "You probably should have started with this one."

Conan sips his ale thoughtfully. "How many people are in your village?" he asks.

"Including women and children, just over a hundred," replies Shad.

"How many of these Juns are there?"

"My father estimates that they have a fighting force of about two hundred armed warriors. Perhaps even as many as three hundred."

"You want me to stand alone against three hundred barbarians?"

"You will not be alone! The Akira will be by your side! We might be farmers and not soldiers, but we're not cowards either! We will fight with sticks and stones, and our bare fists if we have to! We just need someone to lead us! Teach us how to fight!"

"You ask a lot for so little pay."

"It's everything we have! The Juns come every harvest and steal most of our crops and livestock! Any fish we manage to take from the stream, they take that too! They leave us with so little we can barely make it through the winter! We can't eat the animals that they _do_ leave us, because we have to breed them for the following season! And just last week, because the weather forced us to begin planting later in the season than usual, they broke my arm and my ribs, and then forced me to watch as their leader raped my sister! They _raped her!_ She's only fifteen years old, and they raped her! And then they took her with them to their Hidden Fortress* where they're probably continuing to rape her! So I will pay anything, everything I have, to see them _die_!"

Conan takes another drink of his ale. His knuckles turn white as he grips the handle of his tankard. The Cimmerian has been many things over the years since the Vaniir had sold him into slavery as a boy. A gladiator. A thief. A mercenary. A pirate. As such he has done many things that some might have a moral objection to. But through it all, one thing he has never done, and one thing he has no tolerance for, is rape.

"I'll help you," says Conan, "But I cannot do it alone. I will need some help."

"Who else can we get?"

"I have some friends that will probably come if I ask. A few of them are serving the Queen Jhenna, ruler of Shadizar. The other, last I heard, is somewhere around the city of Zamora."

"Shadizar is too far from Akir," says Shad, "By the time you return with your friends, the Juns would have already taken all of our food."

"Then I will go to Zamora. Subotai is an expert archer and a fine swordsman. He will help if I ask. Especially if there's pay."

"Where should I go then?"

"These Juns sound like they've made a lot of enemies. I suggest you try to find some of them."

"I can try the city of Aruk," suggests Shad, "The Juns were defeated at their gates when I was little more than a boy."

"A fine choice," says Conan, and he offers Shad his hand, "We have a contract."

Shad clasps the Cimmerian's thick wrist and they shake on their agreement. Then they pick up their ales and toast to the destruction of the Juns.

 **Author's Note**

 _I based the Eagle's Eye device on the telescope/spyglass used by The Rock in_ The Scorpion King.

 _For those of you who don't know,_ The Hidden Fortress _is the name of another Akira Kurasawa film, which was adapted into a Space Opera by George Lucas, which is now known as_ Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope.


	3. A Call To Arms

**Chapter Three**

 **A Call To Arms**

Shad and Conan mount their respective steeds and ride towards the cities of Aruk and Zamora. Gelt the mule is being his usual stubborn self early on. But once Shad convinces him to move, which takes an excruciating long time by the farm boy's way of thinking, he's nearly as swift as a true horse. Conan spurs his own stallion, a large beast with a coat as black as Conan's mane, whom the Cimmerian has named _Thunder._ Conan and Thunder ride full speed to the east, heading to Zamora with all haste. It was on his way to Zamora that Conan had first met Subotai, whom he now sought to join him on his quest. Conan had just exited the hut of a wild witch-woman where he had spent the night. She had enticed him into her hut with promises of food, shelter, and warmth. As the barbarian enjoyed her hospitality, she read Conan's fortune, telling him that he would one day become a king by his own hand. When he had asked her how to find Thulsa Doom, she insisted that the Cimmerian bed her before she would tell. She was beautiful and exotic, so Conan agreed. She told Conan what he wanted to know while in the throws of passion. But then, at the moment of climax, she transformed into a hideous, ravenous beast and tried to devour the Cimmerian. Conan threw her into the fire where she burst into flame and flew from the hut, a blazing ball of light, screaming into the night. What was she? A werewolf? A succubus from the pits of Hell? Something else entirely? To this day the Cimmerian has never found out exactly what she was.

It was the morning after that Conan had met Subotai. The Hyrkanian archer was chained to a spike which had been driven deep into the stone. He too had been lured into the witch's trap. But rather than devour the thief herself, she slipped him a sleeping potion and chained him up outside as a meal for her wolves. Conan cut him loose and the two of them have been great friends ever since. It was Subotai who helped Conan track down Thulsa Doom. When Thulsa Doom had captured Conan and crucified him, it was Subotai who took him down off of the Tree Of Woe and carried him to the home of the wizard Hakiru to be healed. After rescuing the wayward daughter of King Osric from Thulsa Doom's Mountain of Power, and losing the woman he loved to one of Doom's enchanted Viper Arrows, it was Subotai who stood by Conan as they defended the ancient graveyard where Hakiru made his home from an assault by Doom and his elite guard. Two men (well, three including the wizard) stood against two dozen and came away not only victorious, but virtually unscathed. And now the Cimmerian was set to face a similar, possibly even greater challenge in the village of Akir.

There was no one in the wide world Conan would rather face such odds with, save perhaps his beloved Valeria. But she is with Crom, and he will not see her again until after he has drawn his last breath on the mortal realm. Perhaps that was why he had taken such an impossible contract. Perhaps, somewhere far in the back of his mind, he seeks such a reunion. To go before Crom with a bloodied sword in his hand and a mound of fallen enemies at his feet, asking only to be with Valeria once more. The Cimmerian shakes such negative thoughts away. No, he does not have a death wish. He will fight to survive with every fiber of his being. If he falls in battle, then so be it. But he doesn't seek such an end. It is merely a fact of the life he leads, that those who live by the sword will also die by the sword. But when that day comes, then by Crom he is going to sell his life at a very, very high price. A price paid in blood.

In a matter of days, Conan arrives in the familiar city of Arrowhead. This was the first taste of civilization Conan had ever encountered when he had first set out to avenge his family's murder by Thulsa Doom. He and Subotai had passed through here on their way to Zamora. The Cimmerian finds a stable where he can leave Thunder, and then sets out into the city.

Across town, in a dive of a tavern called The Hog's Head, two men sit at a table and share a meal. One is Hyrkanian, olive skinned and almond eyes. He is dressed in animal skins and has a scimitar sheathed in its scabbard on his left hip, and a dagger sheathed on his right. Next to him, leaning against the table, is a bow and a quiver of arrows. He has a thin mustache, the tips of which have grown long and hang down past his mouth in a fashion popular in Khitai. His hair is worn long, although the top of his head has gone bald. He is Subotai, expert thief and archer. Sitting across from him is a squirrely looking man, who appears to be of Hyperborean descent. He too wears animal skins, although his wardrobe includes woven cloth as well. He has a knife sheathed on each wrist, which allows him to draw them both quickly if threatened. He also has a pair of knives sheathed in the top of each boot, one on either side of his calf. He also has a pair of knives tucked away in the back of his belt, and a dagger on each hip. He is Malak, a thief and former court jester for Queen Jhenna of Shadizar. The two men each have a bowl of some sort of soup or stew sitting in front of him. Subotai's meal is practically untouched, while Malak shovels spoonful after spoonful into his mouth. Subotai can't help but look at his companion with a disgusted expression. "How can you eat that slop?" he asks.

Malak stops eating for a moment. He puts down his spoon and, using Thieves' Cant (a secret form of sign language thieves use to silently communicate with each other*) he signs, _It helps if you can't taste it._ Then he points at Subotai's bowl and signs, _Are you going to eat that?_

Subotai slides his barely touched meal across the table to Malak. "Be my guest," he says. Malak pushes his old bowl aside and then starts in on his companion's. Subotai just shakes his head. "Sometimes I envy you my friend," he tells him with genuine amusement. He then gets up from the table and picks up his bow and arrows. "I have to use the outhouse," he says, "That meal does not agree with my belly. Try not to get into any trouble while I am gone."

Malak waves the notion away as though it were a pest and then continues with his meal. Subotai laughs again and then leaves. Shortly after the Hyrkanian archer has left, a large, grizzled bear of a man with a hideous scar covering half of his face gets up from his own table and begins walking towards Malak. The man is carrying a heavy battle ax, running his thumb along the edge of its blade eagerly. The man grins a cruel smile, the few teeth he has left terribly discoloured. Malak gives the large man every indication that he has escaped detection. However, just before he gets to within striking distance, Malak suddenly stands up and kicks his chair out behind him, tripping the big man up. In that same movement, Malak does a somersault over the table, rolling to his feet and bolting for the door. Two men, one on either side of the door, try to grab the thief, but the much smaller man manages to slip under their grasp and they (quite comically) smack their heads together. Malak dashes out the door and into the street, where he skids to a sudden stop. Three more men are standing out there waiting for him in the street. Malak turns to his left to try to flee to the north, but finds that way blocked by two more men. He turns to his right and finds two more waiting for him there at the south end of the street as well. He hears the other three exit the tavern, leaving him completely surrounded.

"Well now," says the scarred man, "Looks like you've run out of places to hide, Little Man. Why don't you come quiet like, so me and my boys here can collect the twenty thousand gold bounty on your head for bringing you in alive. Or else," and he hefts his ax for emphasis, "We can settle for the ten thousand gold for just bringing in your head."

Malak shrugs his scrawny shoulders and places his hands behind his head as though to surrender. An act that also brings his hands close to the knives sheathed at his wrists. Too late, one of the men standing behind Malak sees their mistake. "Look out!" he cries.

Malak draws his twin knives and throws them simultaneously at the men on either side of the scarred bounty hunter. Both blades fly unerringly into the two men's throats. Then Malak draws a dagger from his hip, turns and sends it soaring into the heart of one of the three men who had cut off his initial escape. The second of those three men takes an arrow through the neck from his right side.

The two bounty hunters at the north side of the street to Malak's left turn around just in time to see Subotai put an arrow through each of their hearts. Meanwhile Malak takes advantage of the distraction and makes a sliding dive between the legs of the third bounty hunter that's in front of him. Using his second dagger, the thief hamstrings the man, forcing him to his knees. Then he quickly stabs the bounty hunter in the back and then slashes his throat.

Malak then whips his dagger at one of the bounty hunters that had blocked his attempt to run south down the street, while Subotai shoots two arrows into the chest of the second bounty hunter. Now only the man with the scarred face and the heavy ax remains. "I'll get you next time!" he yells at the thief, and runs down the street. As soon as he passes the edge of the tavern, a huge bastard sword swings out from between the buildings and takes the man's head off. His headless body actually continues to run for a few steps before it collapses into the dirt. The familiar figure of Conan steps out into view.

"Conan!" cries Subotai in greatful surprise.

Malak smiles stupidly and waves hello like a little child. Conan walks up to them and clasps the Hyrkanian on the shoulder. "Subotai, my friend," says Conan, "How are you?"

"I've seen better days," replies the archer.

"No doubt if you're staying here," says the Cimmerian, "Their food tastes like they dug it out of the garbage, their ale tastes like horse piss, and their whores look like Malak's mother."

 _Not funny,_ signs Malak.

"I think the whore I bedded last night _was_ Malak's mother!" laughs Subotai.

 _You do know I can hear you,_ signs Malak.

"Come!" says Conan, "I'll take you to a real tavern where we can eat, drink. . . . And talk."

The three of them head over to a slightly better class of establishment in a slightly better neighborhood. They enter a tavern called The Siren's Song. This establishment has a reputation for quality food, drink, and women, as well as being a meeting place for mercenaries and other wanderers. The prices are reasonable to those who are not completely down on their luck. Conan finds a table for him and his friends and orders them all food and ale.

"So how is it that a thief as skilled as you are has so little coin that he cannot afford a meal at anyplace better than where rats will refuse to enter?"

"I think rats refuse to enter The Hog's Head because they'll wind up in the stew pot," replies Subotai, "And as for why I have so little money, ask him." and he points to Malak, "Every time I'm about to line up a big score, we get chased out by bounty hunters after _his_ head!"

"Malak?"

Malak just shrugs his shoulders. _It's not my fault,_ he signs.

"Why aren't you in Shadizar with Queen Jhenna? And why won't you talk?"

 _I've been banished,_ Malak replies.

"Banished?!" exclaims Conan, "Why?"

"Perhaps I should tell the story, my friend," says Subotai. Malak nods his head in agreement. "As you know, Malak here was Queen Jhenna's court jester."

"Of course," says Conan, "I was there when she awarded him the position."

"And things were going quite well for him for a while. Then one day a Baron from Aquilonia had come to Queen Jhenna's court in order to negotiate a trade agreement between Shadizar and Aquilonia. Accompanying the Baron was his teen daughter, a lovely young Baroness." Conan groans, as he has a good idea as to where this story is going. Subotai continues his story. "Malak performed before the visiting Baron and his daughter during their evening meal with the Queen. They were all quite amused by his act. Some time later, the young Baroness went missing. Her father, concerned, searched the palace. He eventually found her. She was with Malak in one of the guest bed chambers. Both of them were naked as newborns, and Malak's face was buried between her thighs as he gave her oral pleasures." Conan turns and looks at Malak, who smiles sheepishly and shrugs his shoulders. "Needless to say, her father was _not_ amused. He demanded that Jhenna have Malak executed for stealing his daughter's innocence." This last sentence causes Malak to burst out laughing, the first sound he had made since their reunion with the Cimmerian.

"What's so funny?" asks Conan.

 _The Baron,_ signs Malak, _Thinking that I stole his daughter's innocence._ Conan gives Malak a confused look. _There was no innocence to steal,_ Signs Malak, _I've been with enough women to know whether or not I'm with a virgin. The young Baroness was many things, but a virgin is not one of them. If she was a virgin when I bedded her, then Set is the God of Puppy Dogs and Rainbows. I've been with whores who don't have half the skills this girl does. She did things to me I couldn't even pronounce._

"In any event," says Subotai, "Needless to say the Baron was _not_ happy. He insisted that if Jhenna not punish her court jester for defiling his innocent daughter." This elicits another laugh from Malak. "He swore that there would be no trade agreement unless Jhenna complied. Now, Jhenna was legitimately fond of Malak, and didn't want to see him executed for a simple lapse in judgment. So she got the Baron to agree to a compromise. Malak would have his offending tongue removed and then he would be banished from Shadizar for life, never to return on pain of death."

"So you have no tongue?" Conan asks Malak. In response, Malak opens his mouth wide so that the Cimmerian could see inside. There is a small fleshy stump where the thief's tongue should be, all that is left of the tongue that was once there. "I suppose you're lucky the Baron didn't find you with your manhood balls deep inside his daughter's mouth," says Conan.

 _Had her father walked in on us fifteen minutes sooner,_ signs Malak, _he would have._

"The Baron was satisfied enough to maintain the trade agreement with Shadizar," continues Subotai, "But not enough to heal his injured pride. As soon as he returned to Aquilonia he placed a bounty on Malak's head. One thousand gold pieces for his head on a pike, or double that to bring him in alive. Apparently the Baron wishes to kill our court jester himself."

 _The bounty has gone up,_ signs Malak, _It's now ten thousand dead, or twenty thousand alive._

"Twenty thousand?!" exclaims Subotai, "I might even turn you in for that much!"

"I don't blame you," laughs Conan.

"Anyway," says Subotai, "Thanks to the price on Malak's head, practically everywhere we stop to try and get some rest or commit a little harmless larceny, we end up running into bounty hunters."

"In that case I think I have a solution for you," says Conan, "I have accepted a contract, but I will need help."

 _As thieves?_ Malak signs.

"As mercenaries," replies the barbarian.

"What's the job?" asks Subotai.

"Defending a small farming community from marauding barbarians called Juns."

"What are the odds?"

"About the same as when we fought Thulsa Doom's men at that ancient cemetery. Maybe a little worse."

"What's the pay?"

"More money than you have now."

 _It always worries me when he won't give us a number,_ signs Malak.

"You will have food and shelter for as long as you want it, in a village where no one will think to look for you. And you will receive an equal share in any wealth that the villagers have."

"Which is not very much, is it?"

"No, it's not."

"And you've already agreed to this?"

"I have."

"These Juns must have really made you angry."

"They raped a fifteen year old girl while her father and brother watched, and then kidnapped her."

Subotai's almond eyes flare with anger at this revelation. "I'm in," he says.

 _A decent meal and a place to hide from the bounty hunters?_ Malak signs, _Why not? I've worked for less. Besides, what would the two of you ever do without me?_

"Live long and prosperous lives," laughs Subotai, and the other two join in on the mirth.

"It's settled then," says Conan, "I am to meet my employer in the town of Haven. He has ridden to the city of Aruk to find more recruits. He will be joining us there."

"When do we leave?"

"Right now."

The day after after Conan leaves Arrow Head with Subotai and Malak in tow, Shad arrives in the city of Aruk. As he enters the city gate, he asks a guard where a good place to stay and have a meal would be. The guard suggests The Eagle's Nest and then gives the young farmer directions on how to get there. He tells him that the food and accommodations are nothing fancy, but good quality and at a fair price. Shad thanks the guard and heads to where the guard had instructed him. He arrives at the inn, which has a sign with the picture of an eagle above the door. He tethers his mule outside and then enters the inn. He takes a seat at an empty table near the far corner where he can watch the entire floor. He orders a tankard of ale and a bowl of stew, and then sits and watches the activity in the common room. There are a fair number of people enjoying their evening meals here. Most of them appear to be traveling merchants of one sort or another. They're being waited on by a pretty blonde girl, about the same age as Nanelia give or take a year. Shad quickly learns that the girl's name is Angel. The heavy set older gentleman behind the bar is her father. His name is Sacco. The only people in the common room who do not appear to be merchants are two large brutish men, wearing armor and heavy furs, who appear to be Vanir, judging by Kaylar's descriptions of those people. Shad is just about to get up and ask them if they are for hire when one of them grabs Angel and pulls her onto his lap.

"Hey there girly," says the Vanir warrior, "What do you say to comin' up to our room for a little fun."

"Let me go!" cries the girl.

"Come on now," says the other Vanir, "That ain't no way to be treatin' yer guests."

"Hey now!" cries Sacco as he steps out from behind the bar, "You unhand my daughter!"

"What are ye gonna do if we don't?" asks the first Vanir.

"I'll. . . . I'll. . . ."

"Ha ha ha ha!" laughs the two Vanir.

"That's what I thought!" says the second.

"I'll call the City Watch!" says Sacco, "They'll stop you!"

"Our seed'll be inside this little darlin' long before they get here!" says the first Vanir.

"I. . . . I know the king personally, you know. Harm my little girl, and he'll have you both castrated! You can count on that!"

"And what makes you think you or your girl will live long enough to tell His Majesty anything?"

"Excuse me!" says a new voice from over by the entrance. Everyone turns to look, and sees a tall, handsome blonde haired warrior standing in the doorway. He is wearing a leather loincloth and leather boots. On his left wrist he wears a heavy leather bracer which goes practically all the way to his elbow. There is a leather satchel slung over one shoulder, and a bastard sword sheathed on his left hip. He is of a slender though muscular build, not quite as physically imposing as Conan perhaps, but no less impressive. The newcomer takes a couple of steps towards the two Vanir. "I don't believe that the girl is on the menu."

"This ain't none of yer concern!" says the second Vanir, who steps towards the blonde warrior in an attempt to intimidate him.

"I'm making it my concern," comes the reply.

"And what are ye gonna do if we don't let 'er go?"

"It's not me that you need to worry about," says the warrior, "It's him."

At that moment a loud bestial roar comes from off to the side. They all turn and look to see a huge orange and black striped tiger had sneaked around the edge of the common room and was now within pouncing distance of the two Vanir. The first Vanir leaps to his feet in surprise, letting the girl go. Angel runs into her father's arms, and the second that she's out of harms way the tiger springs onto the Vanir who had grabbed her and clamps it's jaws down onto the man's throat.

The second Vanir warrior, having taken his eyes off of the newcomer for a moment and was now shocked to find a tiger attacking his friend, turns back to the blonde warrior just in time to see the wooden chair that the man had grabbed come crashing down on his head. The chair is smashed into splinters over the Vanir's skull. He stands there looking dumbfounded, like he can't believe this is happening. Then the young warrior leaps up into the air and delivers a devastating spin kick, sending the Vanir spinning around and crashing into his table, breaking it in two.

The blonde warrior walks casually over to the tiger and the first Vanir and squats down next to them. Shad comes over to get a closer look, and realizes that the tiger has not killed the first Vanir warrior. It has his neck in its jaws, but it hasn't bitten down yet. The blonde warrior gives the tiger a firm scratch behind the ear.

"This is my friend Ruh," the warrior tells him, "Ruh and I are very good friends of the proprietor of this establishment and his family. And we don't like it when people mistreat our friends. It tends to make us angry. And you _really_ don't want to see Ruh when he's angry. So here's what's going to happen. Option A, Ruh here lets go of your neck, you collect your friend here, apologize to Sacco and his daughter, leave this establishment, and never come back. Or Option B, Ruh here can just go ahead and bite down, taking your head clean off, and then once you friend there wakes up he can carry your body off and give you a decent funeral. So, what's it going to be?"

"Auch," gasps the Vanir, "Auch."

"What's that?" asks the blonde warrior, "Are you saying you want Option A?" The Vanir nods his head as best he can under the circumstances, "Are sure?" The Vanir nods his head again. "Very well. Ruh, let him go."

The tiger releases the Vanir from his jaws and steps back. The Vanir grasps his throat and takes deep gasping breathes as he can't believe the huge cat didn't just kill him. He crawls over to his unconscious friend and pulls him up onto his shoulders. When he gets up onto his feet, he looks over at Sacco and Angel and croaks, " _Sorry."_ Then he carries his companion out of the inn and disappears down the street. The inn keeper and his daughter run up to the blonde warrior to thank him. Sacco shakes his hand vigorously while Angel hugs him about the chest.

"Thank you Beastmaster! Thank you!" he says.

"It's quite all right," says the Beastmaster, "I'm happy to help."

"Here, have a seat," says Sacco, "Allow me to get you a meal. It's the least I can do."

"All right, my friend. You know I could never resist your cooking." Then he points his finger at Angel, "And _you_ young lady!" he says with a smile, "Stop getting into so much trouble. First the sacrificial fire, now Vanir mercenaries? I won't be around to save your skin all the time, you know."

"Okay, Beastmaster," she says, and then walks away to resume her waitressing duties.

"And call me Dar!" says The Beastmaster, "My father never named me _Beastmaster."_

Shad takes a deep breath to steady his nerves and then boldly walks over to where Dar is sitting. "Excuse me sir," he says, "May I join you?"

"As long as you're not friends with those two dung heaps I just threw out of here."

"No sir!" says Shad, "Not at all! I've never seen them before in my life!"

"I that case, go right ahead."

Shad sits down next to Dar. "My name is Shad of the Akira."

"I am Dar, of the Emurites."

"I am glad to meet you, Dar of the Emurites. Tell me, are you for hire?"

"I guess that depends. What exactly are you hiring for?"

"My village of Akir is being threatened. We need mercenaries to defend us."

"Mercenaries are expensive. Can you afford such a thing?"

"We can try."

"Who exactly would I be defending you against?"

"The Juns."

"The _Juns?!_ " Dar exclaims in surprise.

"They broke my arm and forced me to watch as their leader raped my sister," says Shad, "We haven't very much money but. . . ."

"I don't want your money," says Dar, "The Juns attacked my village of Emur years ago. They murdered everyone, down to the last child. I'd be happy to help you." Ruh lets out a mighty roar. "We both will."

 **Author's Note**

 _Thieves' Cant is in fact an actual thing. In the 1st and 2nd Edition Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Game, using and understanding Thieves' Cant is a special ability of the Thief character class. And in the class description, while describing Thieves' Cant, the books say that it has actual historical significance and that examples of real Thieves' Cant can be found with a little time and research. Just a little FYI. _


	4. An Unbeatable Warrior

**Chapter Four**

 **An Unbeatable Warrior**

Conan, Subotai, and Malak ride their horses hard until the beasts are too exhausted to run anymore and it is too dark to see the road. Fortunately there is a roadside inn along the way where they can put up for the night. It once was a sheep ranch, but the previous owners were killed by bandits and their flock stolen. Someone else took up residence there. Then travelers would stop by, asking for shelter. They would arrive so frequently that the house's new owner started charging them money. Over time he built onto the house, and eventually it became a fairly successful business. He named it The Ram's Horn. It is now a common watering hole and rest stop for mercenaries, adventurers, and wanderers.

Conan and his friends enter the common room and find an empty table. It is a busy night tonight, with a fair number of colourful people of all sorts practically shoulder to shoulder, drinking ale and swapping stories. There is a group of men at one table wagering on a game of Liar's Dice*. At another table a group of men are playing a card game called Siege*. At yet another table, a large, bearded man with an eye patch over his left eye and a scar running down the left side of his face from eyebrow to jaw line is having an arm wrestling contest. A very fit and strong looking younger man is struggling with all his might in order to try and get the bearded man's hand down to the table. The bearded man, however, doesn't seem to be struggling in the slightest. In fact, as his right arm holds its position with his elbow firmly planted on the table, his left arm holds a tankard of ale which he's chugging down while holding his opponent at bay. After he drains the tankard, he slams it down onto the table, looks his opponent right in the eye, belches in the young man's face, and then slams his arm down with as much effort as if he were arm wrestling a child. The one eyed man bursts out laughing as the younger man walks away shaking his head and massaging his arm.

"Take heart lad!" says the man with the eye patch, "Ye did good! Anyone else wanna go?" he asks the room. Nobody answers. "I'll wager double what you put up! Anybody? All right then! I'll put up _triple!"_ Still there are no takers. Judging by the large pile of silver coins on the table next to him, it's a safe bet he has yet to lose this evening. The arm wrestler picks up a huge double bladed great ax from under his table and slams the butt of it against the floor. "More ale!" he shouts.

"What about him?" Subotai asks Conan, "He looks like he can handle himself in a fight."

"We won't beat the Juns by arm wrestling them," says Conan, "I'd rather recruit the man who gave him that scar."

"Unless that big man has already killed the man who gave him that scar," suggests Subotai.

"All right!" shouts the arn wrestler, "I'll put up _four times_ your wager! Who wants to try?"

"I will!" says a booming voice from the bar.

Everyone looks and sees a large, powerfully built warrior with long golden blonde hair striding confidently towards the arm wrestlers table. He is wearing brass shoulder guards, with a brass plated sleeve down his left arm. He also wears brass shin guards, leather boots, and a leather loincloth. There is a heavy, wide broadbelt around his waist, the buckle, also made of brass, is designed to look like the head of a roaring lion. Hanging from that belt, at his left hip, is the sheathed blade of a magnificent longsword. The hilt appears to be forged in gold, and is encrusted with rubies. He also wears a quiver of arrows on his back, and a powerful looking longbow. The ends of the bow are carved to look like the head of a dragon, the curve the dragon's neck. The curve of the bow is so thick one might even doubt the warrior's ability to draw the string back. The blonde warrior sits down at the table across from the one eyed arm wrestler.

"Four to one?" asks the warrior.

"That's what I said," confirms the arm wrestler.

The blonde warrior reaches into his money purse and pulls out a pair of gold coins. The one eyed man looks at the gold coins, and then looks at his own pile of silver. He has enough to cover that bet if he loses. . . . Maybe. He looks this newcomer over. The warrior gives him a look of supreme confidence. The wrestler steadies himself for the contest. He has a feeling that this was a challenge he couldn't face with his usual bluster. He places his elbow on the table in the ready position. The blonde warrior does likewise. The two of them lock hands. The wrestler nods that he's ready, and the warrior nods back. The two of them push against each other, trying to drive the other's arm down. The one eyed champion leans in, his face twisted in the strain of the match. Meanwhile, the blonde warrior seems to be hardly straining at all. He's putting in as little effort in this contest as his opponent had on the last one. When he finally tires of the charade, the blonde warrior slams his opponent's hand down onto the table.

The scarred man roars in outrage. He grabs his ax and stands up. The blonde warrior stands up as well, but doesn't bother drawing his sword. "You cheated!" yells the loser.

"Not at all," says the warrior calmly, "I won. You lost. And now your money is mine. Fair and square."

"I don't honor bets with cheats!" shouts the scarred man, and he raises his ax and attempts to bring it down and cleave the warrior's skull in two. The blonde warrior catches the ax by the handle, and then the two men push and pull, trying to wrest the weapon from the other's grasp. Finally the blonde warrior brings his knee up into the other man's groin. The bearded man lets out a gasp and his one good eye seems to roll up into his head. The blonde warrior then rears his head back and then throws it forward, slamming his forehead into the bridge of the scarred man's nose. As his nose becomes crushed and blood flows freely down his face, the loser falls to the floor, flat on his back. His opponent stands over him, ax in hand. He raises the ax up over his head.

"I. Don't. _Cheat!_ " he cries as he brings the ax down. The one eyed man raises his arms up over his face in a feeble defense and screams in terror as the ax comes down. But rather than spilling his blood, the blade of the ax head buries itself into the floorboards, right between his legs, less than an inch from cleaving his manhood in two. The one eyed man sits up screaming, thoroughly surprised that he is still alive and still whole.

"Leave," says the warrior. "Now."

The one eyed ruffian scrambles away from the victor and runs up the stairs to his room (likely to find a clean pair of pants). The winner sits down at the table and helps himself to some ale. "So," he says, "Anyone here want to try and challenge _me_ to an arm wrestling match? I'm offering a four to one pay out!"

Conan gets up and walks over to the table. "I'll take that bet," he says.

"How much?" asks the warrior.

"Everything in my bag," replies Conan. He holds the bag out so that the blonde warrior can see inside. All he sees are a bunch of copper coins and a few silver pieces. The blonde warrior smiles at him.

"Hey," he says, "It's your money."

The two warriors clasp hands and place their elbows in the ready position. They look each other in the eye. Conan nods his head, indicating that he's ready. His opponent nods back. Then the contest begins. Both men grimace in effort as they strain against one another. With the exception of their hair colour, they appear to be almost mirror images of the other. Their muscles strain. Their veins bulge. Beads of sweat form on their brows. First Conan begins to gain the advantage. Then his opponent does. Back and forth it goes. Conan's opponent finally begins to gain the upper hand. The back of Conan's hand inches closer and closer to the table. Then, just as it appears that all is lost, with a cry of "Crom!" Conan drives his opponent's hand all the way down flat onto the table.

The blonde warrior looks at Conan with an expression of absolute shock. But unlike the previous champion that night, he takes his loss with good humor. "Well done!" he congratulates the Cimmerian. Then he tosses him one of his gold coins. "That ought to cover your winnings," he says.

"I don't think so," says Conan, and he dumps the contents of the purse onto the table. The last thing to fall out, the thing that was buried under all of the copper and silver coins, was the platinum and emerald necklace that belonged to Shad's mother. "We did say four times everything in my bag," says Conan.

Again, the blonde warrior shows remarkable good humor after falling for such a simple trick. "You're welcome to all my money," he says, "But I'm afraid I don't have enough to cover our wager."

"Then I'll take it out in trade."

"What kind of trade?"

"I happen to be recruiting mercenaries to help me defend a small farming village. _You_ just volunteered."

Again, the warrior laughs. "Fair enough!" he says, "Who are you, friend?"

"I am Conan, a Cimmerian."

"Well met, Conan. They call me Deathstalker."

"Come," says Conan as he gathers up the coins and puts them into his purse, "I will introduce you to your fellow mercenaries."

They head over to the table where Subotai and Malak are waiting. "I want you to meet Subotai of Hyrkania. He is an archer and great warrior. And this here is Malak. I know he doesn't look like much, but there are few men who are deadlier with a dagger than he is. Subotai. Malak. This is Deathstalker."

"Deathstalker?" says Subotai as the newcomer sits down, "Your mother must have had great plans for you to give you a name like that."

"I never knew my mother," says Deathstalker, "I was born into slavery. I was taken from my mother and sold to be trained as a gladiator while I was still suckling at her breast. The Vanir raised me to be the mightiest gladiator who ever lived. And they succeeded. To this day I have never lost a battle. I have fought ogres and trolls. I have battled armored men while I was virtually naked and unarmed. I have fought alone against multiple opponents and have never been beaten."

"Then you ought to feel right at home with us," remarks Subotai.

"How so?"

"We have been hired to fight a group of mounted barbarians called The Juns."

"How many of them are there?" asks Deathstalker.

"Approximately two hundred," says Conan, "Maybe three."

"And how many of us are there?"

"Including you? Four."

"Plus maybe three or four dozen farmers with pitchforks," adds Subotai.

Once again Deathstalker bursts out laughing. "My friend," he says, "You needn't have bothered with the deceptions and trickery. I would have joined you had you just asked!"

"Really?" says Subotai, genuinely puzzled, "Why?"

"Because that sounds like it might _actually_ be a _challenge!_ "

Once again Deathstalker bursts out laughing, and this time Conan, Subotai, and Malak join in.

Hundreds of miles away, in the city of Aruk, Shad and Dar are preparing to leave the city and return to Akir. Dar decides to visit his young half brother, the king, in order to borrow a horse. Dar does most of his traveling on foot, as he is never without his animal companions Ruh the tiger, Sharak the eagle, and the ferrets Kodo and Podo. However, even with his ability to telepathically communicate with animals, he cannot convince a horse to travel alongside Ruh for any great length of time. And to be fair, he's not entirely certain that he could convince Ruh not to eat the horse if the cat got hungry enough. He only communicates with the animals, he doesn't control them. But time is of the essence, and a swift mount is vital to getting to Akir on time. On their way to the Royal Palace they hear a commotion coming from off to the side. Despite their need for haste, they decide to investigate. As the two men draw nearer to the commotion, they begin to hear what's being said.

"Five silver on the pup!" says one voice.

"Six on the vet!" says another.

They come upon a group of men and women crowding around the side of a building. Dar and Shad push their way through the crowd to see what it is they're yelling about. The crowd forms a semicircle around two men. Both are wearing the trappings of warriors, although they both clearly are foreign to Aruk. One of the men is wearing chainmail armor and had a curved broadsword sheathed at his hip. By his manner of dress, almond shaped eyes, and olive skin he is clearly a man from Khitai. He unbuckles his sword belt and hands it to a lovely young woman standing behind him, also from Khitai, wearing a red cheongsam dress with dragons embroidered on it in gold thread. The man is fairly young, in his early to mid twenties at best. The man standing across from him could be from virtually any of the western kingdoms. He has long dark hair and pale skin. He wears armor more akin to those of the western kingdoms, made up mostly of chainmail, with brass plates strategically placed as both added protection and decoration. He too unbuckles his sword belt, which holds a fabulous bastard sword, and hands it to his second, a little man roughly half the warrior's size.

"What's going on?" Dar asks one of the spectators, an old man with a long white beard who is smoking a pipe as he watches.

"Two dignitaries from Khitai and Tir Asleen got into an argument over which of them is the greater swordsman," says the old man, "They're going to settle things the old fashioned way."

The young woman hands the man from Khitai a stick, roughly as long as his broadsword and as thick as a quarterstaff. The easterner puts the makeshift weapon through some practice swings with obvious skill. The little fellow acting as the second for the man from Tirasleen which closely matches his bastard sword in both length and weight. He too puts the weapon through some simple practice swings, also showing considerable skill. The two combatants begin walking towards each other.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" asks the man from Tir Asleen.

"Afraid, Round Eye?" asks the man from Khitai in a mocking tone.

"Not at all," comes the reply, "But false pride is no reason to spill a man's blood, or lose any of your own."

"Spoken like a coward," says the man from the east.

"You know," says the other man, "You're making it extremely difficult to remain diplomatic."

The two men assume ready stances with their wooden swords. The man from Khitai goes on the offensive, attacking his opponent with a series of slashing attacks. The man from Tir Asleen backs away, parrying every attack. When he can't back up any farther he ducks under an attack that was aimed at his head and dances past his opponent and back into the center of the semicircle.

"He's out matched," says Shad, pointing at the older veteran from Tir Asleen, "He hasn't even tried to fight back."

"No," says Dar, "He's toying with him. Look," and he points to the man from Khitai, "The man from Khitai is already tiring."

Shad looked closer and it was true, the man from the east was breathing heavily. The delegate from Khitai charges at his opponent again, slashing almost wildly with his wooden sword. His opponent backs away again, parrying each strike with his own wooden sword. Once more he can back up no farther. This time the man from the east tries a thrusting attack. The delegate from Tir Asleen sidesteps the attack, pivots, spins, gives his opponent a humiliating slap on the rump with his sword, and then dances once more into the center of the semicircle. The man from Khitai turns around, his face twisted in fury.

"You have been hanging around with that peck too much!" he says, "You fight like a coward!"

The smile leaves the other man's face. " _Don't_ call him a _peck_!" he says.

"A peck?" says Shad.

"The little fellow acting as his second," says the old man, "He's of a race called the Nelwyn. A peck is a derogatory racial slur to the Nelwyn. The highest of insults."

The man from Khitai comes at his opponent once more. This time the man from Tir Asleen doesn't retreat. They come at each other full force in a flurry of strikes, parries, and counter strikes. Then the two combatants strike at each other simultaneously, both pulling their attacks just short of the other's throat.

"A draw then," says the man from Khitai as he pants heavily.

"No," says his opponent, "Had this been for real, you would be dead."

"You lie!" screams the man from the east.

"No, you lost."

"Prove it!" shouts the easterner, and he throws away his stick, storms over to his second and draws his broadsword, "This time we do it for real!"

The older man walks over to the Nelwyn, tosses his own stick aside, and then draws his bastard sword. "Don't be a fool," he says, "This is no reason to end your life."

"But it _is_ reason enough to end _yours!"_

The two men clash once more. Steel rings against steel as their blades clash in a wild flurry. Then the two of them swing at each other simultaneously exactly as they had before. This time the attack by the man from Tir Asleen is just a split second quicker than his opponent's. The blade of his sword slashes the younger man's throat wide open. The shock of the wound throws the easterner's aim off, causing his blade to scrape harmlessly across the armor of his opponent. The younger man grasps his throat in a desperate attempt to stop the flow of his life's blood. He tries to speak, but can only make a strangled gurgling sound. He falls to his knees, and then collapses face first into the dirt. The victor pulls a cloth from his pocket and cleans his blade as he walks solemnly over to the Nelwyn. The girl in the red cheongsam dress runs over to the slain man, crying over the loss. The crowd begins to disburse, all but Dar and Shad who look at the winner thoughtfully. As the man sheathes his sword and buckles his sword belt back around his waste, the Beastmaster and his companion walk over to him.

"You're pretty good with a sword," says Dar.

"He's the greatest swordsman who ever lived," replies the Nelwyn.

"We're hiring mercenaries to. . . . " begins Shad.

"I'm no mercenary," the swordsman interrupts, "Not anymore."

"Who are you?" asks Dar.

"I am Madmartigan, Stewart to the throne of Tir Asleen and guardian of the princess, Elora Dannen. This is my good friend, Willow Ufgood of the Nelwyn, a mighty sorcerer."

"Him?" says Shad, "A mighty sorcerer?"

"One does not need be great in size to wield mighty magic," says Willow, "Observe." The young magician reaches up and lays a hand on Shad's injured arm. " _Sana caro os quaeque sarcerent.*_ " A soft blue glow radiates from Willow's hand and spreads up Shad's injured arm. The glow continues to spread across his shoulders and down his chest. Shad's arm begins to hurt less. It's no longer painful to take a deep breath. By the time the glow fades away, his injuries have all healed. Shad removes his arm from its sling and tests its range of motion. His arm is as good as new.

"How did you do that?" he asks.

"Magic," replies Willow with a shrug, "Just a simple healing spell. Fairly minor incantation really."

"It is a shame you aren't for hire," says Dar, "We could use people with your talents."

"What do you need mercenaries for anyway?" asks Madmartigan.

"To protect my home village of Akir from marauding barbarians known as The Juns," says Shad, "They steal our crops and our livestock, leaving us barely enough to survive. They murder anyone who tries to stand up to them. They even kidnap and rape our women, most recently my own sister."

"Can't King Tal protect you?" asks Madmartigan.

"Our village is too remote," replies Shad, "His Majesty cannot afford to maintain a garrison so far from his city."

"In that case," says Madmartigan, "you will have the aid of my sword."

"And my spells," adds Willow.

"No," says Madmartigan, "Not this time, my friend."

"What?!" exclaims Willow, "What do you mean?"

"You have a wife and children at home," the swordsman calmly explains, "And an entire community that depends on you."

"So do you!" argues the Nelwyn.

"True," agrees Madmartigan, "But Elora Dannen has Finn Razael and Sorsha to look after her. Sorsha is a warrior, she'll understand. And she used to be the Princess of Castle Nockmaar, so she can handle the political stuff on her own. Much better than I ever could anyway. And she also has Rool and Frangene who. . . Who. . . Who have the Dust of Broken Hearts? But where would Kaya and the bobbins be if anything ever happened to you? And where would your village be if Burgelcutt's power goes unchallenged?"

"But. . . ."

"Besides," continues Madmartigan, "I need someone here who can represent the people of Tir Asleen in my absense." He takes off a signant ring and hands it to Willow, "I am giving you the authority to speak to the king on my behalf, and on the behalf of the people of Tir Asleen. Your first instinct is always a selfless one. I know you'll do me proud."

Willow looks as the ring in his hand, then looks up at his friend. He knows he's not going to win this argument. "Don't go getting yourself killed," he says, "I doubt all the magic in the world will save me from Sorsha's wrath if that should happen."

"I don't doubt it," says Madmartigan with a smile.

"Besides," continues Willow, "Branon wants to become a warrior when he grows up. And as skilled as Vohnkar, I'd much rather my son be trained by the great Madmartigan."

"And he will be," says Madmartigan as he kneels in front of Willow and gently places a friendly hand upon his small friend's shoulder, "I give you my word of honor."

"Here," says Willow, and he fishes in his pocket for a moment. The Nelwyn pulls his hand out and places something into Madmartigan's palm. "Take this for luck. But only use it in the most dire of need."

Madmartigan looks at his palm, "An acorn?"

"The same acorn I threatened to throw at you the day we met," says Willow, "It's magic. Anything you throw it at. . . ."

"Turns to stone," says Madmartigan, completing the thought, "I remember. Thank you, my friend."

"Just come back alive," replies the Nelwyn.

"After receiving this gift?" he says, holding up the acorn, "How can I possibly not do so?"

"Just don't miss," says the little sorcerer.

"Hey," says Madmartigan, "I _never_ miss."

The two friends clasp forearms in a warrior's symbol of brotherhood. He then joins Dar and Shad in acquiring a horse from King Tal's royal stables. Within an hour Madmartigan, Dar, and Shad are riding hard towards the town of Haven, with Ruh following close behind and Sharak flying high over head, while poor Willow must negotiate trade agreements not only for the Nelwyn but also for the people of Tir Asleen.

 **Author's Notes**

Liar's Dice _is the dice game being played by the pirates aboard_ The Flying Dutchman _in the movie_ Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest.

Siege _is a card game I had invented for use in tales of high fantasy such as this one, as I doubt all possible worlds and realities would have the exact same decks of cards (four suits, thirteen cards per suit, and two jokers) as well as the exact same games to be played using these cards (Gin, Poker, Cribbage, etc). So I made up the game of_ Siege. _There are five suits to a deck, with sixteen cards per suit (six face cards and ten numbered cards). There are also four Siege Engine cards, which are wild. The suits are_ Infantry, Cavalry, Archers, Battle Clerics, _and_ War Wizards. _The face cards are_ Field Marshal, General, Colonel, Major, Captain, _and_ Lieutenant. _The game itself plays pretty much the same as_ Five Card Draw Poker, _with the exceptions of the number of cards per hand (seven instead of five) and the number of possible winning hands (with more suits, more cards per suit, and more cards per hand, there are far more possibilities for winning hands)._

 _The magical incantation spoken by Willow is actually Latin. It translates to_ "Mend bone, Heal flesh."


	5. A New Recruit

**Chapter Five**

 **A New Recruit**

Dar, Shad, and Madmartigan ride hard through the day and deep into the night. Gelt the mule keeps pace with the horses, and is far less stubborn than usual as they ride to the town of Haven. Shad guesses, and quite correctly, that the Beastmaster has been communicating with the mule telepathically, keeping it moving by stressing the urgency of their quest. Ruh the tiger keeps a respectful distance from the mounts to keep from spooking the animals. As the night deepens, the three men finally bring their mounts to a halt and make camp. They build a fire, and by the time the flames have reached their peak, Ruh trots into the circle of fire light carrying the body of a wild lamb, his mouth clamped down on the creature's broken neck. They will be eating well this night. As they sit about the fire, Dar pulls his two thieves, the ferrets Kodo and Podo, out of his satchel so that they can get some fresh air. Madmartigan looks upon this with genuine amusement.

"You have some interesting traveling companions," says the Lord of Tir Asleen.

"They're my friends," replies the Beastmaster, "They have been all my life. I see through their eyes, they see through mine. They know my thoughts, I know theirs."

"A truly remarkable gift," says Shad.

"Doesn't it bother you that we're eating something you can communicate with?" asks Madmartigan.

"Does it bother the tiger?" replies Dar, "We hunt to eat, the same as Ruh, or Sharak. We communicate differently perhaps, but we are very much the same."

"I never though of it that way," admits the knight.

"I suppose we can all learn something from the animals," says Shad, "They don't kill for pleasure like the Juns. Or rape."

"We will avenge your sister," swears Madmartigan.

"And rid your village of the Jun threat once and for all," adds Dar.

"Then teach me how to fight," says Shad, "Or we will be vulnerable to the next threat after the Juns are gone."

"We were going to have to teach you eventually," admits Madmartigan, "No time like the present."

Madmartigan gets up and goes into the bush. Several minutes later he returns with three thick tree branches. Two of them are roughly three and a half feet long, similar to the one he had used in his initial duel with the stubborn young man from Khitai. The third branch is about five feet long, with two smaller branches sprouting from one end like the tines of a fork, giving it the appearance of a pitchfork or a trident. Madmartigan then takes out a knife and strips the bark off of the two sticks which are to represent swords, except for a length at one end just long enough to grip with two hands. The third branch he strips the bark off of the three tines at the end. He hands the longer branch to Shad.

"That is your trident," he says while pointing at the weapon in Shad's hands. "And this is my sword. This is the blade," pointing at the stripped end, "And this is the hilt," and he points at the end which still has bark. "The first rule of learning how to fight, use what you know. Spears, axes, hammers, these are every day tools that everyone has access to. As such they are easier to learn. Once you have mastered these, you can move on to more advanced weapons, such as the sword." Madmartigan assumes a ready stance with his wooden sword. "Come at me!" he commands.

Shad takes his wooden practice trident and thrusts it at Madmartigan's chest. The man from Tir Asleen casually parries the clumsy attack and smacks Shad on the belly with his wooden blade. "You're dead," he tells him. Then he steps back and assumes a ready stance. "Again!" he says.

Again Shad tries a straight forward attack. And again the experienced warrior defeats it easily. After a few more embarrassing slaps with the wooden sword, Madmartigan begins to give him some tips on how to use the weapon more effectively. To not attack the same way every time. To try and be unpredictable. Not to only thrust with the points of the trident, but also swing the shaft like a staff. It takes a while, but eventually Shad begins to get the hang of it. He starts deflecting Madmartigan's attacks more and more frequently. After only one lesson, he is soon able to wield his practice trident with at least some competence. Finally they take their rest and sleep through the rest of the night. They don't bother setting a watch. Even in his sleep Dar's mind is attuned to the animals. If a threat comes in the night, he will be the first to know. At first light they break camp and ride for Haven, eating cold roast lamb as they ride. The next night Dar takes a turn teaching Shad how to fight. His methods differ from Madmartigan's in that he orders Shad to protect himself, and then straight up attacks Shad with his practice sword. Madmartigan watches from the sidelines and offers tips for improvement, criticism where needed, and compliments where appropriate. He also studies Dar's fighting skills, and has to admit that he's impressed. This Beastmaster's skills with the sword might actually be equal to his own, or a very close second. He finds himself thanking any deity who might be listening to his private thoughts that he and Dar are on the same side.

They rest for the night, and begin again the next day. The entire way back to Haven they continue the pattern. Ride through the day, set up camp, then teach Shad how to fight. Some nights Madmartigan would handle his training, other nights it would be Dar. Some nights they would train him together, to get him used to fighting more than one opponent at a time. For as they explain to the young farmer, "The Juns are not likely to be fighting fair."

Before long the three men arrive at the gates to the town of Haven. The watchmen posted at the gate give the Beastmaster a bewildered look, but keep a respectful distance from him (or more pointedly, from Ruh). They head straight for _The Lazy Cock._ Shad sees the familiar sight of the large Cimmerian sitting at a table with a flagon of ale before him. With Conan are a a blonde warrior who looks every bit as impressive as the Cimmerian himself, and a smaller but clearly highly athletic Hyrkanian whose hair is worn long at the back while nature removes it from up top. Shad heads over with his two companions following right behind.

"Conan," says the young farmer in greeting, "I'm glad to see that you didn't just take my money and run."

"I don't steal from the poor, lad" replies Conan, "And when I make a contract with someone, I don't break it."

"My apologies," says Shad, "I meant no offense. Are these the old companions you told me about?"

"One of them is," confirms Conan with a nod, "Subotai here and I once fought a battle together with odds not that different than what we will soon be facing." Subotai bows his head to his employer in a silent but polite greeting. "Deathstalker here I had just met recently. He claims to have never been bested in battle, and is joining us for the thrill of the challenge." Deathstalker gulps down the rest of his ale and then lets out an impressive belch. "My other companion is Malak. He's over by the bar refreshing his ale. He may not look like much, but he's deadly with his daggers. He seeks only for a place to hide from the bounty hunters who are after his head, and a decent meal."

"Well met," greets Shad, "This here is Dar of the Emurites, otherwise known as The Beastmaster."

"The Emurites?" says Deathstalker, "Last I heard the Emurites were extinct."

"Thanks to the Juns," says Dar, "I am the last."

"So you are seeking revenge," says Conan.

"I prefer to think of it as justice," replies Dar, "But essentially, yes."

"I understand," says the Cimmerian with a nod.

"And why, pray tell, do they call you The Beastmaster?" asks Subotai. In response, Ruh lets out a mighty roar. "Oh," says the Hyrkanian, "Never mind."

"And this is Madmartigan," says Shad, indicating the armored knight, "Stewart to the throne of Tir Asleen and general of her armies."

"I also happen to be a husband and a father," says Madmartigan, "And if these Juns were to do to Sorsha or Elora Danan what they've done to Shad's sister? Well, just the thought of that happening is reason enough to add my sword to your cause."

Shad and his two recruits sit down at the table across from Conan and his recruits. Just then Malak arrives with three flagons of ale in each hand and places them on the table as he sits down. "I see what you mean about him not looking like much," says Madmartigan as he helps himself to an ale.

"I thought much the same about your wizard friend, remember?" says Shad, and he holds up his once injured arm and flexes his fingers to emphasize the point.

"You brought a wizard?" says Conan.

"Unfortunately no," says Shad, "His duties to his own people, and to the kingdom of Tir Asleen prevented him from joining us."

"A shame," laments Subotai, "A powerful wizard could have really tipped the scales of battle in our favor. I have heard tales of a lone sorcerer wiping out entire battalions of armored soldiers with just a few gestures."

"Stories?" says Madmartigan, "I've actually _seen_ it. At the Battle of Nockmaar, the Witch Queen Bavmorta turned our entire army into pigs. Had it not been for the fact that we brought our own sorcerers with us, all would have been lost that day."

"You mean your friend, Willow?" asks Shad.

"Partly," agrees the knight, "He was only a wizard's apprentice at that time. It was his teacher, Fin Razael, who turned us all back into men."

Malak taps Subotai on the shoulder to get his attention. _We had better get ready,_ he signs, _There is going to be a fight soon._

"A fight?" asks Subotai, "Are you sure?"

 _You see those men playing cards over there?_ Malak replies, _The one who is winning has been cheating. He is using a deck of marked cards. And he is about to get caught._

"How do you know?" asks the Hyrkanian.

 _Trust me,_ signs Malak, _I know._ And the thief pulls his own deck of _Siege_ cards out of his pocket.

"What's going on?" asks Shad, who (not being a thief) doesn't understand Thieves' Cant.

"You're about to discover what your money has bought you," replies Conan.

Over at the table where the men are playing _Siege,_ the latest hand is called and the players who have not surrendered show their hands. "Crossfire!" says one of the players, the term used when your hand has two sets of three of a kind.

"Not bad," says the man with the most coins in front of him, "Not bad at all. But not good enough to beat my Battle Wedge Formation," and he lays his cards on the table. The cards in his hand are a straight run of a Five of Archers, Six of Infantry, Seven of Cavalry, Eight of Battle Clerics, Nine of War Wizards, Ten of Cavalry, and a Lieutenant of Infantry. The man with the Crossfire hand throws his cards down on the table in disgust, and the other players groan at the winner's apparent luck. The man with the winning hand bursts out laughing as he reaches to collect the pot of this latest hand. As he pulls the pile of coins towards him, however, a card slips out from inside the sleeve of his tunic.

"Bel's teeth!" curses the man who had just lost the last hand, "You cheating son of a whore!"

"What are you talking about?" asks the winner, "I have no idea where that came from!"

"Troll dung!" shouts another player, "No one can be as lucky as you in cards! I always thought you were a cheater, and now we know it!"

"I don't _have_ to cheat when I play against the likes of _you!_ " argues the man, "Your tells are so obvious, you might as well hold your cards _backwards!"_

"Bah!" says another player, "You're a cheat and a liar! And I want my money back!"

"First man to touch my winnings loses a hand!" shouts the accused man.

"They're only winnings if you play fair!" says another, "Otherwise they're stolen coins, and I want them back!"

"Go ahead and try it," growls the accused.

One of the players makes a grab for the coins in front of the accused cheater. The man grabs his tankard of ale and smashes it over the other players head, and then punches the man in the face with enough force to send him flying into the table where men are playing _Liar's Dice._ The dice players pick up the man who broke their table and disrupted their game and threw him back to the table with the card game, where he smashes through another table. From there all hell breaks loose. People start punching and kicking the closest people to them. Shad gets up from his seat and backs up against the wall, while Malak takes his tankard of ale and quietly slips underneath their table.

Conan, Subotai, and Deathstalker all jump into the fray, knocking out drunken brawlers left and right. Dar and Madmartigan are more reserved, only defending themselves when threatened, but doing so in impressive fashion. A drunken rowdy sees Shad standing off to the side and throws a punch at the young farmer's face. Shad ducks under the blow and the ruffian's fist goes right through the wall. Shad then retaliates with a quick punch to the ribs, followed immediately with a punch to the jaw. He manages to knock the man out cold, but also hurt his hand in the process.

Shad watches in awe as Conan grabs two men by their hair and then smacks their heads together. Deathstalker headbutts a man in the face, and then picks another man up over his head and throws him over the counter of the bar. Subotai is a flurry of action, jumping and spinning, delivering punches and kicks so quickly that his hands and feet are a blur of movement. Though despite being smaller than his Cimmerian friend, his fighting style is no less fierce.

Another brawling bar patron swings a wooden chair at Shad's head, which the young farmer ducks under at the last instant. The chair smashes into kindling as it hits the wall, and Shad quickly retaliates by kneeing his attacker in the groin. As the man doubles over clutching his injured crotch, Shad brings his knee up again, this time connecting with the man's face. The drunken brawler falls back, slamming the back of his head against the wall, knocking himself out cold. Shad sees Malak sitting beneath their table casually drinking his tankard of ale, and Shad scrambles under the table to join him.

"You planned this didn't you?" accuses Shad. Malak smiles and nods his head affirmatively. "Why?" to which Malak just shrugs his skinny shoulders. "Why can't you speak?" Malak opens his mouth and shows Shad that he has no tongue. "Oh," says the young farmer, "I'm sorry." Malak just shrugs his shoulders again, his expression saying " _It is what it is._ "

Shad suddenly notices that the sounds of fighting had stopped. He pokes his head out from under the table and looks around. Virtually everyone in the common room of _The Lazy Cock_ is laying on the floor, either unconscious or moaning in pain. The only people left standing are the five warriors that had been recruited to protect Akir from the Juns. Conan walks up to Shad. "I take it this was your first fight," says the Cimmerian, "What do you think?"

"I think," says Shad as he looks at the carnage laying about him, "That I may have just bought my village a chance."

"Come on," says Madmartigan, "Let's get out of here before The Watch comes. We won't do your people much good from inside a jail cell."

"You're right," agrees Conan, "Let's go." He looks around and sees Malak gathering up the spilled coins from the gaming tables. "Malak!" calls Conan, "Come on! We're leaving!"

Malak quickly picks up another handful of coins and then runs to catch up with his companions. The seven of them mount their horses, or in Shad's case his mule, and ride out of town and toward the north. They ride until nightfall and set up camp. Once more Dar's animal companions prove useful, as Ruh brings them a deer for their dinner. That night they dine on fresh venison, and Shad continues his combat training. Now Conan, Subotai, and Deathstalker add their own styles to the young farmer's training. He takes his lumps, but eventually manages to hold his own while sparring with his teachers. They sleep through the night and then break camp at first light. The next night Sharak brings the group a brace of conies for their evening meal. In a few days time they come to a lush forest, the very edge of the valley where the village is to be found. It takes the better part of the day, but they eventually reach the creek that runs the length of the valley and feeds the lush foliage. The water is crystal clear and they can see trout swimming whenever the current slows enough to allow the warriors to see them. Shad smiles to himself, for they won't be needing Sharak's or Ruh's hunting skills to eat tonight. Shad might be just a farmer, but he's also an excellent fisherman with trident and net. No sooner does this thought enter Shad's head then it is interrupted by the sounds of steel clanging against steel.

"What's that?" asks Shad.

"Sounds like a battle," replies Madmartigan.

"Let's go see!" says Shad excitedly, "They may need our help!" Before anyone can object, Shad spurs his mule into a gallop.

"The energy of youth," says Subotai in amusement before spurring his horse to follow.

"More like foolishness," says Deathstalker before doing the same.

"We'd better go before our young friend gets himself killed," says Dar as he spurs his horse after them.

"Wait for me," says Madmartigan.

Conan and Malak quickly follow as well. As Shad approaches the sounds of battle, Gelt the mule decides to resume his stubborn streak and stop dead in his tracks. When Shad is unable to get the mule to go any farther, he dismounts and continues on foot. What he sees makes his jaw drop. Nearly a score of Juns have surrounded a beautiful young woman who carries the trappings of a warrior. She wields a magnificent bastard sword with exceptional skill, constantly turning to keep from being attacked from behind. Her hair is worn long, and is bright red, like poppies in full bloom. Her body is lean and muscular, with a dancer's physique. But what truly amazes Shad is her choice of armor. She wears steel shoulder guards, which are common enough, but the rest of her attire seems more suited to a king's harem than a battlefield. She wears a chainmail brazier which covers her perfectly shaped breasts, but provides no protection to the heart which lies between them as it is designed to accentuate the cleavage of her bosom. To accompany the brazier she also wears a chainmail loincloth, which covers her groin and buttocks but little else. She wears leather boots which reach nearly to her knees, and leather gauntlets that cover most of her forearms, but these would provide little protection against steel blades.

Laying at her feet were four Juns, either dead or dying. Off to the side were four more Juns mounted on horseback. Despite the fact that all of the Juns have a sword or ax belted to his hip, or strapped across his back, they are all wielding wooden clubs. One of the Juns comes at her from behind, his club raised above his head. The red haired woman ducks under the blow and slashes the Jun across the belly with her sword, disemboweling him. Another Jun attacks her with his club. She cuts the wooden weapon in two with her sword, slashes the Jun's hamstring, and then runs him through the chest.

"Why aren't they trying to kill her?" wonders Shad out loud.

As if in answer to his whispered question, one of the Juns on horseback, who is apparently the leader of this group, shouts, "Remember lads! Whoever brings her to me alive gets to have first Crack at her. . . . _After_ I've had _my_ fun!"

This ignites a flame within the young farmer's soul. " _NANELIA!"_ he screams and he charges the field.

"Wait!" Subotai calls after him, too late.

"In for a copper," mutters Madmartigan as he draws his sword and runs after the boy.

"Crom!" says Conan as he draws his Atlantean blade and spurs Thunder into a gallop.

At the sound of Shad's outraged cry the Juns turn to face him, throwing their wooden clubs aside and drawing their steel. Shad throws his trident at the nearest Jun, the barbed middle prong diving deep into the Jun's shoulder while one of the outer prongs digs into the Jun's chest. The Jun drops his sword in order to try and pull the trident from his flesh. As he does so, Shad tackles him to the ground. Then the young farmer pulls his hatchet from his belt and begins repeatedly hacking into the barbarian's face. While he's busy mutilating the now dead Jun barbarian, two more Juns attempt to slay the young man. Two of Malak's daggers fly from the bushes and bury themselves into the chests of both Juns, killing them.

A third Jun tries to cleave Shad's skull with his battle ax in a two handed downward chop. At the last second, Madmartigan steps between them, parrying the attack with his sword and then retaliating with a pair of slashes across the belly, followed by a stab through the chest. Madmartigan places a booted foot against the Jun's chest as he pulls his sword free from the barbarian's ribs. Then he turns to look at Shad. "Second rule of combat," he says, "Once you've killed one opponent, move on to the next!" And with that, he moves on to the next Jun.

Subotai fires off two arrows in rapid succession as soon as he exits the bushes. One arrow strikes one of the mounted Juns in the throat, exiting out the back of the neck, severing the spine. The other arrow hits another mounted Jun right in the forehead, piercing the brain.

Not to be outdone, Deathstalker fires an arrow at another of the mounted Juns. His arrow strikes the barbarian right in the middle of his chest with enough force to throw him from the back of his horse. He strikes an oak tree six feet behind his horse's tail and is pinned there by the arrow. The fourth mounted Jun, the apparent leader of this small group, reins his horse about and spurs it into a gallop, fleeing the battle. Conan charges through the skirmish on Thunder, cutting down a Jun as he rides past, and gives chase.

Dar engages a Jun in combat, clashing swords with the barbarian. The Jun telegraphs an attack by raising his sword over his head with both hands for a downward slash and The Beastmaster takes advantage by thrusting his own sword forward and stabbing the barbarian through the chest. He quickly turns and sees Ruh mauling a Jun with claws and fang. He takes a brief moment to communicate with the tiger telepathically, and then Ruh sprints off after Conan and the Jun leader.

The Jun leader drives his mount at top speed. He had recognized the son of the elected leader of the Akira. What's more, he recognized The Beastmaster. He was there the night The Juns lost to the people of Aruk. He had witnessed The Beastmaster defeat Karak's father in single combat. He had witnessed the mysterious bird men devouring his fellow Juns. His body still bears the scars of the burning moat. He did not know who the others who ride with The Beastmaster are, but the simple fact that they are apparently coming to the aid of the Akira is sure to mean trouble. This is information which he is sure Karak needs to know. So he pushes his horse to its limits and hopes that if his men can't stop The Beastmaster and his friends, that they can at least slow them down long enough for him to get back to their Hidden Fortress. As the horse and it's rider round the bend, the horse rears up in fright and nearly throws the barbarian to the ground. There, waiting for them, is Ruh the tiger. The great cat roars at the fleeing Jun, causing horse and rider to turn about and head back the way they came. The Jun leader curses himself for not anticipating one of The Beastmaster's animal companions getting ahead of him. Tigers do not need to follow the traveled trails, paths, and roads that horses and other such beasts require to pass through forest terrain. He rides back, hoping to find a side path that he might take around the tiger, when he comes face to face with the Cimmerian. With a fierce tiger behind him, and a clearly powerful warrior in front, the Jun leader does the only thing left for him to do. He draws his sword and charges.

Conan also spurs his mount into a charge, his Atlantean sword drawn and held ready. The two warriors clash. Steel rings out against steel as the swords collide. Conan thrusts his blade at the Jun leader's heart, only to have it parried to the side. The Jun then tries a slash at Conan's neck, in an attempt to decapitate him. Conan parries the attack, and the two warriors lock blades just above the cross guards. Both men give a mighty heave, and the two of them tumble from their mounts.

They both roll to their feet, maintaining a grip on their swords. Conan whirls his sword about before him in a figure eight pattern, before presenting it in a ready stance. The Jun leader assumes his own ready stance. The two of them lock eyes, both knowing full well that only one of them would be leaving this conflict alive. Then they charge at each other. Their swords clash, again and again. First high, then low. Each man trying to gain the advantage. Each man countering every attack to stop the other from gaining said advantage. Silently, both men admire the other's skill. But while their skills with the blade are nearly equal, Conan's years on The Wheel of Pain have given him a strength and stamina that few can match. He sees his opponent tiring, the Jun's sword swings coming in more slowly and not as frequent. In response, Conan increases the strength and speed of his attacks. The Jun leader desperately attempts to match the Cimmerian's ferocity, but just can't keep up. Conan cuts the Jun's hand off at the wrist. Then as the barbarian stares helplessly as his life's blood pours out of the bloody stump where his hand once was, Conan slashes deep into the man's shoulder, and then across his belly. The Jun leader collapses, laying on his back as he bleeds out. In what some might call an act of mercy, Conan finishes the Jun leader off by driving the point of his Atlantean sword through the man's heart.

Some time later, Conan returns to where he had left the others, the body of the Jun leader slung across the saddle of the leader's horse, the animal in tow. Ruh is plodding along beside the Cimmerian and the horses. Conan sees that his companions had fared well in the battle. Two dozen Juns lay dead on the ground, and not one of their company appeared to have received so much as a scratch. Conan dismounts and walks over to the others, who are talking with the beautiful woman warrior.

"Good! You're back!" says Shad, "I'd like you to meet Sonja. Sonja, this is. . . ."

"Kalidor?" she says.

"I am Conan," replies the Cimmerian, "I don't know any Kalidor."

"The resemblance is remarkable," she says, "You two could be brothers. Twins even."

"Where is this Kalidor?" asks Conan, "Who is he?"

"He's dead," says Sonja with genuine sorrow in her voice, "He was a friend. A very good friend."

"I'm sorry," says Dar, "How did he die?"

"In battle," she replies, "Bravely. . . . And stupidly."

"Too often those traits go hand in hand," says Subotai.

"Shad here has told me of your mission," she says, "I wish to join you."

"These Juns only wanted to capture you," LLLsays Conan, "To use your body for their pleasure. Can you fight as well when they're looking to kill you?"

"I have never been bested with sword or ax by man, woman, nor monster," she says, "And if you wish to test my claim then draw your sword and I will prove it to you!"

"No need," says Conan, "One of the greatest warriors I ever knew was a woman. If you are half as good as you claim to be, then you are more than welcome."

"What are we going to do with the bodies?" asks Shad, "Bury them?"

"Gather their weapons and armor," says Conan, "Then load the bodies onto their horses. We will take them with us."

"Take them with us?" says Shad, "Why?"

"Because," replies the Cimmerian, "They may not have realized it when they woke up this morning, but they are going to help protect the Akira."

Shad still looks confused, but shrugs his shoulders and does as Conan had instructed. These mercenaries would know better than he about protecting his village. After all, that's what he hired them for. The others all go right to work, gathering up the dead bodies and dropped weapons. Malak pats Subotai on the shoulder to get his attention, and then holds up seven fingers. "Yes my friend," says the archer, "Now there are seven of us. A lucky number. I only pray to The Four Winds and Mitra that it will be lucky enough."

 _It will be,_ signs Malak, _I know it._

"Just as you knew that a Baroness and a court jester are not supposed to be intimate?"

 _Hey, she came on to me,_ he signs.

"That doesn't give you your tongue back though, does it?"

Malak just shrugs and goes back to work. Subotai chuckles and does the same. Then he looks about at the bodies that lay on the field. Seven of them, eight including the farm boy, took out two dozen Juns without hardly breaking a sweat. That's three to one odds. And Sonja had already killed four of them before they had even arrived, and another two while they watched. Yes, maybe the seven of them _can_ defeat this Jun Horde. If not, then may their defeat cost many Jun warriors their lives.


	6. A Homecoming

**Chapter Six**

 **A Homecoming**

Shad and his seven mercenaries ride throughout the day, guiding the horses of the slain Juns, the dead bodies slung over the beasts' backs. They follow the creek, as it will lead them eventually to the village of Akir. Shad insists on taking a break so that he can spear some fish with his trident for their supper. He proves to be quite skilled at spearing fish, and they soon have enough trout for a fine meal. They make camp at sunset, and sit about the campfire eating their meal. Shad can't help but stare at Sonja as she sits directly across the fire from him. Finally she puts her supper down. "What?" she demands.

"I'm sorry," says Shad nervously, "I didn't mean to stare."

"So why are you?"

"I was just wondering. . . ."

"Yes?"

"Isn't the purpose of armor to protect your flesh from harm?"

Sonja can't help but chuckle. "Yes, I suppose it is," she says.

"Then what good is armor which barely covers enough skin to protect your modesty, let alone your life?"

"A fair question," concedes Sonja, "But I'm hardly the only one here not completely covered in steel. Why not ask Conan the same question? Or Dar? Or Deathstalker?"

"Conan is a Cimmerian, a barbarian. They tend to shun armor simply on principle. And if they do wear armor, it's usually made of leather rather than steel. Dar lives in the wild with his animal friends, at one with nature. Subotai and Malak are thieves and cannot wear armor as it would interfere with their stealth. Deathstalker was a gladiator, and their armor is designed for show not functionality. You are no barbarian. You do not live with the animals. You are neither a thief nor a gladiator. So why, pray tell, such impractical armor?"

"You are very observant for a farm boy," she says.

"My father was a soldier before he was a farmer," says Shad, "He has taught me a great deal about the world at large."

"I see," says Sonja, "Very well. Tell me, Shad of the Akira, have you ever played _Siege_?"

"Of course," says Shad, "Who hasn't?"

"When you play, what do you pay closest attention to? Your cards? Or the other players?"

"Father says that a wise player will always pay attention to both."

"And your father would be right. But most gamblers would tell you to play the players, not the cards."

"I don't understand."

"You want to watch your fellow players and learn their tells. Their playing habits. Who likes to bluff? Who likes to play the cards that they're dealt? And if the _do_ bluff, do they have any nervous habits that give them away?"

"So what does that have to do with you choosing to fight half naked?"

"The art of combat is a lot like a game of _Siege,"_ replies Sonja, "During a fight, a warrior will often have a tell which would reveal their next move. It's often seen in the positioning of his feet, or perhaps how he holds his weapon. If you can get your opponent to look elsewhere though, like at the cleavage of a woman's bosom for example, then he would fail to see the attack coming."

"So it's a diversion," says Shad.

"Exactly."

"And if his attention is not diverted?"

"Then you had best be a much better swordsman than he is."

"How much farther to the village?" asks Conan.

"If we continue the pace we've been traveling," says Shad, "then we should arrive by midday, the day after tomorrow."

"Did you not say that the Juns have scouts watching your village?" asks Dar.

"That's true," replies the farmer, "They do."

"Then perhaps we should not be riding into the village with two dozen dead Juns in broad daylight," suggests Subotai.

"The rest of you stay back for half a day," says Dar, "I'll ride ahead. I can flank the scouts and take them by surprise. Then I will meet you in Akir."

"Would you like some help?" asks Subotai, "The stealthy approach is the thief's bread and butter."

"Thank you," replies the Beastmaster, "But I'll be okay. I'll have all the help I'll need." And then, as if to accentuate the point, Ruh lets out a mighty roar. Subotai just laughs and nods his head in agreement.

The eight companions settle down for the night, with The Beastmaster's animal friends keeping watch. At some point during the night, everyone is woken up by the sound of Deathstalker screaming in pain. Everyone draws their weapons in preparation for an attack. Then they see what the gladiator is screaming about and have to struggle to hide their amusement. Deathstalker is kneeling next to Sonja's bedroll, his loincloth pulled down to his knees. The red haired warrior has grabbed hold of his testes and is squeezing with all of her considerable strength. The expression on her face is most certainly _not_ one of amusement. "If you _ever_ try that again," she says through clenched teeth, "you can be sure to kiss _these_ goodbye." Deathstalker simply grimaces in pain and says nothing. " _Understand?"_ she says, as she squeezes harder.

 _"Yes!"_ croaks Deathstalker, amazed that she can squeeze his privates still harder, " _I understand!"_

The red haired she-devil releases Deathstalker's manhood, and the large blonde warrior crawls back to his own bedroll, pulling his loincloth back up as he goes. "That goes for the rest of you as well!" she says to the entire group, "I am under a vow! No man may have me unless he can defeat me in a fair fight! Ever!"

"So in order for a man to lay with you, he must first try to kill you?" says Conan.

"Yes."

"That's logical," he says with a shrug.

"Funny," says Sonja, "Kalidor said almost the exact same thing when I had first told him of my vow."

"Did he take you up on your offer?l asks Madmartigan.

"As a matter of fact, yes," she replies.

"Was that the brave and foolish act which brought about his death?" asks Subotai.

"No," says Sonja, "That came later. When we fought our duel, he fought me to a draw. He is the only man to have ever done so, before or since."

"Did you not want him to win?" asks Shad.

"A part of me did," she admits, "But I cannot lose the fight on purpose. It must be an honest victory, or it means nothing, no matter how I may feel. Still, I nearly let him kiss me without first earning it in battle."

"Why would you make such a vow?" asks Beastmaster.

"When I was seventeen, Queen Gedren wanted me as her personal consort. I refused, but she would not take no for an answer. So I scarred her face. In response she had her soldiers murder my family, burn my home, and then take turns raping me. They left me for dead. But as a laid on the ground, watching my home burn, the red goddess Scathach, Goddess of Warfare and Martial Skills, came to me. She granted me the strength, stamina, and skill to get me revenge, but at a price."

"Your vow," says Madmartigan soberly.

"Aye," she says, "Should ever I break my vow, the gifts that the goddess had bestowed upon me that night would be gone forever. I would never again be the warrior that I am now. That I have fought so hard to become."

"You have my sympathy," says Dar, "And my respect."

"Mine too," says Madmartigan.

"And mine," says Subotai.

"I am not generally one for sympathy," says Conan, "But you do have my respect." Malak nods his head in agreement.

"I didn't know about what happened to you," says Deathstalker, "I'm sorry. I never should have tried to bed you the way I did. You have my respect as well."

"Thank you," says Sonja, "All of you."

"And if we both survive this little adventure," says the former gladiator, "I think I just might take you up on that challenge."

"If we both survive," says Sonja, "I just might let you live when you do."

With that they all laugh and then go back to sleep. In the morning, Dar rides off with Ruh and Sharak following close behind. The others wait to give him a head start. They pass the time by continuing Shad's education with martial weapons. As they now had a collection of Jun weapons to choose from, Shad is now able to learn to fight with sword and ax as well as with a trident. They still start him off with the wooden practice swords that Madmartigan had prepared for him, but now he also has a steel blade to get used to wielding. When the sun reaches its peak, that is when they break camp and head out. They travel at a brisk, but not frantic pace, so as to give Dar time to get far enough ahead of them to deal with the Jun scouts before they arrive.

Far ahead, the Beastmaster is pushing his mount and animal companions as hard as he dares to. He is fully aware that if he fails to intercept the scouts before they can report to Karak, then their time to prepare an adequate defense for the village of Akir will be desperately short. He pushes his mount as hard as he can without being cruel. They travel throughout the day, taking minimal rests for food and water. They make camp for the night as the sun begins to touch the horizon. Dar sends Sharak to scout ahead. As the eagle can cover far more ground from the air than Dar and Ruh ever could on foot, this makes him the perfect scout. Dar uses his telepathic connection to see through the eagle's eyes. He sees the village of Akir. It vaguely reminds him of his home village of Emur, except Emur at least had a wooden wall to help protect it. The Akira don't even have that much, which will make defending the village that much more difficult. Sharak continues to scout the area and soon finds the campsite of the Jun scouts. There are three of them north west of the village. Their location provides them with a clear view of the village without giving away their own location. Dar would likely not have even spotted them had he been searching from the ground. Fortunately the gifts of his birth make such problems no issue at all. The Beastmaster settles in to get some sleep. He awakens before dawn. He sends his horse back to rejoin the others, and then takes off through the untamed wilderness, Ruh running right alongside him.

The Beastmaster runs through the thick forest as swiftly and silently as a deer. He paces himself, so as to stay strong for the fight which is sure to come. But at the same time he rarely stops, or even slows down to catch his breath, and as such manages to close the distance between him and the Jun scouts in short order. That evening, as the sun is setting in the west, the Jun scouts are preparing for supper. One of them had caught and skinned a rabbit and was roasting it over their campfire. One of the Juns, Tembo, is watching the village with his Eagle's Eye.

"Get over here and eat your share of this rabbit before I eat it myself!" Dako calls over to him.

"You know we were sent here to watch the village," replies Tembo.

"It's not like it's gonna up and leave while you eat dinner," says Kalo, "Might as well enjoy some fresh meat while it's available. The village will still be there when you're done."

Tembo takes a moment to consider this. There has been no unusual activity in the village since the son of the village leader had left on an apparent fishing trip over a week ago. When he didn't come back after more than a few days, they had reported it to Karak, who had likely sent out a hunting party to make sure he wasn't planning anything foolish, like asking the king for help again. They had been eating mostly jerked meat, and he had to admit that the roasting rabbit did smell good. After only another moments hesitation, the Jun scout sets down his Eagle's Eye and joins his two companions. As Tembo reaches for one of the rabbit's hind legs, he hears a low growling coming from the bushes.

"Dako," he says, "I hope that was your stomach."

As if in answer, there is another growl, this one louder than the last. The three Juns turn towards the sound, and there in the bushes are a pair of feline eyes staring back at them, reflecting the light of their campfire. Tembo turns and reaches for his crossbow, only to discover a pair of ferrets scurrying away with the crossbow bolt. He turns back just in time to see Ruh pounce on him from the bushes. The tiger sinks his teeth into the Jun's throat while raking him with his claws.

Kalo and Dako jump to their feet, reaching for their swords. As Kalo's blade is only about halfway out of its scabbard, he hears an eagle screech, causing him to look up. Sharak swoops down and begins clawing and pecking at Kalo's face. The Jun drops his sword to the ground as he raises his hands in a desperate yet futile attempt to protect himself from the bird of prey.

Dako gets his weapon clear of its scabbard, a scalloped edged great-sword custom made for one of his size. He stands there stunned, unsure as to whether to attack the tiger or the eagle. Then the Beastmaster steps from the bushes, sword in hand, and his mind is made up. He attacks Dar with a great overhead swing. Dar ducks under the attack and counters with a thrust of his own sword. Much quicker than he appears, the Jun manages to get his huge weapon down to parry, and then counters with a great sweeping attack of his own.

Once more Dar dodges out of the way, this time countering with a slash aimed for his opponent's shoulder. Again Dako manages to parry the attack, and then counters with another downward strike aimed at Dar's head. The Beastmaster sidesteps the attack, and then thrusts his blade at the Jun's exposed belly. He scores a hit, but only a minor one as the Jun steps out of reach before the blade could sink in too far.

The Jun warrior advances again, making large sweeping attacks with his enormous sword. Dar keeps out of reach of that wicked blade, for a single hit could easily cut him in two. He backs up to the trunk of a huge oak tree. Dako bellows a battle cry and tries to cut Dar in half at the waist. The Beastmaster leaps over the blade, diving into a forward somersault, as the Jun's great-sword sinks deep into the trunk of the oak tree and gets stuck. Before the huge barbarian can free his trapped blade, Dar gets in close and runs him through the chest with his sword.

Dar pulls his sword free from the big man's chest, and the Jun collapses on the ground, dead. The Beastmaster turns to see how his companions have fared. Tembo lays dead on the ground, his throat and belly torn open. Kalo is still alive. However there are now two bloody holes where his eyes used to be. The Jun is staggering around with one hand out in front of him, trying to find his way by feel. Dar walks up to him and slashes him across the chest, from right shoulder to left hip. The blinded Jun falls to the ground to join his brethren in death.

Dar cleans his blade on the Jun's cloak, and then goes about gathering the bodies and weapons and loading them onto the scouts' horses. Ruh comes up to the Beastmaster, his muzzle and paws still slick with fresh blood, and nuzzles him affectionately. Dar gives the great cat a grateful scratch behind the ear. Then he gathers up Kodo and Podo, mounts one of the horses, and heads down towards the village.

Hours later, Dar is entering the village of Akir at about the same time as Shad, Conan, Sonja, and the others. They meet up in the center of town. The streets are completely deserted. Not a single villager has come out to greet them, nor even poked their head out of their doors.

"Hail the conquering heroes," says Sonja with sarcasm.

"I'm sorry," says Shad, "They must be afraid."

"Afraid of us?" asks Madmartigan.

"You have to understand," explains Shad, "That the people here have scarcely ever seen a warrior, let alone battle. My father is the only one with any true knowledge of the ways of violence and war. And he was not born here. He settled here after his days in the military."

"That's a pleasant thought," says Deathstalker.

"Come on out!" Shad calls out to the village, "Why do you hide? I have brought these people here to save us! To save you all! And this is how you greet them?"

Shad's father, Kaylar, limps from his home, leaning heavily on a wooden staff. "You are right, my son." to Conan he says, "Forgive us. We have lived in fear for so long, we have almost forgotten that there are indeed good men still in the world." Then Kaylar turns to the village and calls out, "Come on people! Do not be frightened! These are our honored guests! And we shall treat them as such!"

In response to this, the people of Akir come out of their homes and greet the seven mercenaries. Men and women shake their hands and pat them on the back, thanking them repeatedly as though they had already won the battle. Conan walks with Shad and Kaylar as they head towards Kaylar's house.

"I see you've already slain some of the Juns," says the old man, "This is good. Fewer of them for us to fight when they eventually come. How many did you kill?"

"Twenty four," replies Shad.

"Twenty seven," Dar corrects him as he steps in line behind them, "Their three scouts won't be reporting on our presence here."

"Good," says Conan, "That should buy us enough time to ready our defenses."

"There's not enough time to build a wall," says the Beastmaster, "Not even a wooden one. Even with the whole village pitching in it would take weeks."

"That's why we won't build a wall," says Conan, "We're going to dig a trench instead."

"A trench?" says Shad, confused.

"Aye," says the Cimmerian, "All the way around the village. We will pile the dirt up on the outer edge, so that when you stand in the trench, the wall of dirt will come up to your shoulder."

"The Juns are horsemen," says the young farmer, "They'll be able to jump that barrier easily."

"Not if we set stakes in it," says Dar, "Long ones, pointing outwards. Any horses that try to jump the dirt mound will impale themselves. And those who do manage to get past the stakes will be outnumbered and surrounded by the Akira."

"A fine plan," agrees Kaylar, "But the Akira are not warriors. They have no training. No weapons."

"We will handle their training," says The Beastmaster.

"And the Juns have already provided you with weapons," adds Conan.

"Besides Father," says Shad, "We have tools. Axes for chopping wood. Knives for butchering livestock. Spears for hunting game. Tridents for spearing fish. Even our shovels and hoes can be used as weapons."

"That's the spirit!" says Dar.

"I just hope it will be enough," says the old man.

"Shad says that the scouts information is at least a week old by the time their leader confronts you about it," says Conan, "Correct?"

"Yes," says the old man.

"Then the Juns' Hidden Fortress must be a three or four day ride up into the mountains. The scouts will likely not be counted as missing for several more days yet. That should give us a week, perhaps even two, to get you ready."

"Ready for what?" asks Shad.

"War," replies Dar.

Outside the Akira have opened up their hearts and their homes to the mercenaries. They bring them as much food as they can spare, even more than they can spare. Deathstalker eats heartily, while Red Sonja and Madmartigan are more reserved. A little girl of about ten years of age, and a little boy who is about half that stand and stare at Malak as he's eating. The thief gives them a questioning look and shrugs his shoulders as if to say " _What?"_ Finally the children approach. "Are you a warrior?" asks the little girl. Malak nods his head affirmatively and smiles. "You don't look like a warrior." she says. Malak taps Subotai on the shoulder and signs a reply.

"He says, 'Does he not look like a warrior?'," the Hyrkanian translates.

"No," says the girl, "He looks like a raggedy-man."

Malak laughs and signs some more. "He wants to know what you think a warrior ought to look like," translates Subotai.

"Like him," says the girl, pointing at Madmartigan, "Or him," and she points at Deathstalker.

Malak signs a reply, which Subotai translates, "Because they look big and strong?" The little girl nods her head affirmatively. Malak signs another reply. "A true warrior finds that a strong mind and a strong spirit are more important than a strong body."

"Prove it!" says the girl as she crosses her arms defiantly.

Malak looks around to find a way to prove his boast, and sees a scarecrow leaning against the side of a house waiting to be repaired. Malak motions for her to watch. Then, while barely even looking at his target, Malak draws a dagger from his hip sheath and whips it into the center of the scarecrow's face. Then he takes out his other dagger from his other hip and hurls it dead center of the scarecrow's chest. Then he draws the twin knives from his wrist sheathes, twirls them about with his fingers, and then sends them spinning side by side through the air directly into the painted eyes of the scarecrow. Malak then draws the twin knives from the back of his belt and sends them flying one after the other into the scarecrow. The knife from his left hand sinks deep into the scarecrow's belly, while the other buries itself in the target's crotch. Malak then turns to the children and gives a bow. Then he opens his arms to them, as if to invite inspection, and gives them an expression which clearly says " _Well? What do you think?"_

The thief discovers he had developed quite the audience, as many more of the village children had come over to watch the demonstration of his knife throwing skills. All of the children applaud the display. All, that is, except for the little girl who had approached him in the first place. She just shrugs her shoulders. "Not bad. . . ." she says says in a very nonchalant manner, "For a raggedy-man."

Malak signs something to Subotai, who translates. "He wants to know what your name is, little girl."

"My name is Kura," she replies, "and this is my little brother Sawa."

"Well met Kura and Sawa of the Akira," says Subotai, "I am Subotai of Hyrkania, and this is my friend Malak, former Court Jester and personal bodyguard to Her Royal Highness, Queen Jhenna of Shadizar."

"Why doesn't he speak?" asks Kura as she points at Malak.

"Because he can't," replies Subotai, "He has no tongue. It was _cut out!_ " he says, putting the emphasis on the last two words and adding a slashing motion with his finger to make it seem like Malak lost his tongue in battle rather than as punishment for performing cunnilingus on a young woman who was far above his station.

"Really?" says Kura.

Malak leans in close and opens his mouth wide so that the children can look inside and see that he has no tongue. Some of the children make faces as though they had just tasted something spoiled and look away, while others eyes light up and they gasp in astonishment. Malak then signs something to Subotai, which the Hyrkanian dutifully translates.

"He thinks you should be heading back to your parents now," says the archer, "And I agree."

Many of the children disperse, but Kura and Sawa stay behind. "We don't have parents," she explains, "Our father was killed by the Juns when they first came to steal our crops. Then they took our mother away to their Hidden Fortress."

"Oh," says Subotai, "We're very sorry."

Kura just shrugs her shoulders. "Sawa was just a baby at the time. He doesn't even really remember them. I do a little. But I'm starting to forget stuff."

Malak nods his head and then signs something to Subotai. "He says he understands," translates the archer, "He says he lost his parents when he was very young too."

Again the girl just shrugs her shoulders. "Well, goodnight Raggedy-Man!" and she leads her little brother away.

Malak signs something to Subotai, who shouts after the children, "He says his nanme is MALAK!"

"That's what I said!" Kura calls back, "Raggedy-Man!" and they run off giggling.

Malak couldn't help but smile. Subotai didn't know this, but the two children reminded him a great deal of his own brother and sister. He wasn't lying when he said that he was an orphan. He was the youngest of the three, and thus his brother and sister took care of him. And being only children, they needed to steal in order to survive, which is how Malak became a thief. His sister had always had a sarcastic wit, much like little Kura's. He made a silent prayer to Bel, God of Thieves, that they might return this little girl's mother to her once the Juns were child should be without a mother.


	7. First Blood

**Chapter Seven**

 **First Blood**

The morning after Shad had returned with the seven sell swords he had recruited to defend Akir, the village becomes a bustle of activity. Every able bodied person, men and women, young and old, grabs their picks and shovels and begin digging a trench around the perimeter of the village. They dig all through the day, until the trench is waist deep. The dirt is piled up on the outer edge, not quite as high as the trench it was dug from. Conan, Deathstalker, and the Beastmaster gather several bundles of long wooden poles, which Malak and Subotai begin to sharpen. Kura and her brother Sawa ask if they can help, and Malak lends them two of his knives so that they can whittle the ends of the poles into points as well. Other children ask to help as well, and soon practically every Akira child in the village is helping to whittle stakes. The stakes are set into the dirt wall, some pointing straight up while others are angled outwards.

While Malak and Subotai are making stakes with the village children, the adults are gathering dry firewood and chopping it into kindling. Once the kindling is thin enough to catch easily, it is piled up outside the perimeter of the village, just beyond the dirt wall. The pile is roughly knee high, and runs the length of the dirt wall, creating almost a secondary wall of dry kindling. Piled on top of this us plenty of freshly cut green wood, with plenty of vibrant green leaves on the branches. This added wood brings the outer wall's height to nearly a grown man's chest, but would hardly stop a man from entering the village. Most horses could jump such a height with ease. When Shad mentions this to Conan, his only response is "Trust me."

Large rocks are hauled into the village and are used to build short walls, little more than waist high, between houses. Conan explains that these are for protection against arrows and javelins when the Juns breach their outer defenses, which he is certain that they will.

With the outer and inner defenses set, the next thing to do was prepare their troops. Madmartigan and Red Sonja began training them in combat and military tactics. As their combat training was more formal than many of their companions, they are more accustomed to group tactics, which is what these villagers will need to become victorious. Subotai and Deathstalker begin training them in archery. A few of the villagers have bows and arrows for hunting deer and other game, while the mercenaries had acquired some crossbows from the Juns they had killed. They quickly determined who were better suited for fighting from a distance, and who would be better off fighting up close. Still others hunt small game with slings, and they discover who the best shots with those weapons were as well. While not much use against armored warriors, if a well slung stone could cause a Jun to be thrown from his horse that could grant them some advantage.

The final stage of their defense was the most brutal, and most difficult to stomach. Conan and his comrades take the bodies of the twenty seven slain Juns and strip them of their armor and clothing. Then they dress them as simple farmers. Then they take several wooden poles, and drive them up into the rectums of the Juns. Using these poles they stand the Juns up in the trenches like scarecrows, so as to appear as sentries on guard from a distance. They even bind wooden poles to the Juns' hands to make them appear to be armed.

"Every arrow or javelin that strikes one of these bodies, is one that will not kill one of your people," explains Conan.

Some of the Akira are not too happy with the casual desecration of the dead, even the dead of the Juns. But they can't argue with the logic behind the mercenaries' actions, and as such do not object to the practice. Besides, they are much too busy training to become capable fighters to bother protesting the casual use of dead Juns as decoys. Some Akira take to the art of combat more easily than others. Shad comes across two of his fellow farmers smacking the wooden blades of their practice swords together repeatedly.

"What are you two doing?" Shad asks them.

"Practicing," says one of the farmers, as though the answer were obvious.

"Practicing what?" asks Shad.

"Sword fighting," says the other farmer, again as though it were obvious.

"Do you think that when the Juns come, they're just going to be attacking our weapons?" he asks them. The two Akira look at him like they have no idea what he's talking about. Shad holds out his hand. "Give me your practice blade," he says. One of the Akira hands his practice sword over. Shad assumes a ready stance. "Now attack me," he says to the other. The farmer takes a swing at Shad's sword. Shad lets the two sticks collide, then he responds by hitting his sparring partner in the arm with his wooden weapon. "You've just lost your arm," says Shad, "Try again." The farmer tries again, and again aims for Shad's practice blade. This time Shad strikes his sparring partner just above the knee. "You've just lost a leg," he says, "Try again." Again the farmer aims an attack at Shad's weapon, and again Shad responds by attacking his opponent, this time poking him in the belly with the tip of the wooden sword. "Now I've just run you through the belly with my sword."

Shad tosses the practice weapon back to its owner. "Forget what you've seen in the street plays in the city or heard in minstrels' tales. Sword fights are rarely two blades clashing together over and over again. It's whoever gets his strike in first that wins. Aim for your opponents' body. Their arms, legs, neck, or head. If you can parry their attacks, great. But practicing hitting sticks together for the sake of hitting two sticks together is pointless." And with that, the young man walks away.

Watching this whole exchange was Shad's father, Kaylar. He couldn't help but notice the deep change in his son's demeanor since his return with the seven sell swords. He feels a hand gently rest upon his shoulder. "Your son learns quickly," says the red haired warrior, "He may yet survive the coming battle. You should be proud."

Kaylar turns to look Red Sonja in the eye. "I have always been proud of Shad," he says, "I am also sad. Sad that he must become what I came here to escape." and with that he limps away, leaning heavily on his staff.

Kaylar limps into his house. He heads over to his bedroom and drags his bed off to one side. He then kneels down on the floor where the bed once was and begins pulling up the floor boards. He reaches into the hole and pulls out a wooden chest. He opens the chest and removes a cloth bundle, which he takes over to the dining table. Kaylar sits down at the table and opens the bundle. Inside, carefully preserved, are his old military uniform, armor, sword, dagger, and crossbow. The armor and weapons have some wear and tear from years of disuse. Kaylar spends the rest of the evening and much of the night repairing the locking and firing mechanisms on the crossbow, polishing the armor, and sharpening and oiling the sword and dagger. By morning they are gleaming like new and are in perfect working order. He calls Shad into the house, where he presents his son with the sword and armor.

"These were mine when I served King Zed many years ago," he says, "I want you to wear them into battle."

"Father," gasps Shad in astonishment, "These are yours. I can't. . . ."

"They don't fit me too well anymore," interrupts Kaylar, "And I can't swing a sword too well with my leg the way it is. I'll hold onto the crossbow though. I ought to still be able to take out a few of those Jun bastards with this beauty."

"Are you sure?"

"Take them," he says, "Let them keep you safe. And if you are to die in it? Then be sure to take as many of those Jun bastards with you as you can when you go."

"I will," says Shad, then he gives his father a hug, "Thank you Father."

"No," says Kaylar, "Thank _you,_ my son."

Kaylar helps Shad into the armor, and buckles the sword belt around his son's waist. Then he stands back and admires his son's appearance. He truly does _look_ like a warrior now. And he can tell by the way Shad is standing, and the look on his son's face, that he _feels_ like a warrior as well. A feeling Kaylar knows could be the difference between life and death.

Miles away, in the Hidden Fortress of the Jun Horde, Karak is in his bed chamber. He has Nanelia pinned down to his bed, her arms up over her head and held tight by the wrists. Both of them are naked, their sweaty bodies glistening in the torch light. Nanelia struggles against her captor with all of her strength, but to no avail. Karak is far too big and powerful to be fought off by so small a girl. A cruel smile is splayed across Karak's face as he violates her young body. He has raped her on practically a daily basis since he abducted her. To his delight, she still continues to try and fight him. Other women submit to his lust almost as soon as they realize that there's no escape, and when they do he bores of them. Nanelia has fought him at every turn, which he finds incredibly exciting. Suddenly there is a heavy banging at his chamber door.

"Come back later!" he shouts. He continues to drive his manhood into Nanelia's body when the knock comes again. "I said . . . Come! Back! _Later!"_ A moment later there's another knock. " _Damn it!_ " he cries. Karak pulls out of Nanelia and storms over to the chamber door, pulling it open with such force that the stone wall cracks as the door handle strikes it. Standing in the hall outside Karak's personal bed chamber is Braxus, a powerfully built Jun warrior with a shaved head and a cleft chin. Had it been any other Jun in the horde Karak likely would have cleaved him in two with his ax. But Karak was genuinely fond of Braxus and found him to be an insightful and cunning second in command. All of the other Juns afforded Braxus nearly as much fear and respect as they do Karak, which also makes him a valuable asset.

"This had better be important," says Karak, "I was in the middle of siring an heir."

"Apologies, Sir," says Braxus, "But I thought you should know that our scouts are two days late in reporting on the events of Akir."

"So?"

"It is very unlike them, Sir," says Braxus, "They have always been prompt with their reports. Especially these three."

"What? You think those pathetic villagers got the drop on them?"

"It's unlikely, but it is possible. Even a ram will lower it's head and charge when threatened. They may have felt that you have gone too far by taking their leader's daughter."

"Very well, Braxus. Take two score men and go see what those three are doing. If the Akira have anything to do with their absence, punish them accordingly. But remember, we still need their food for the winter."

"Of course, Sir," sayd Braxus and takes his leave.

Karak turns around to see Nanelia trying to cover herself with the bed skins. "Now," he says, "Where we're we?"

"Why must you hurt us so?" asks Nanelia, "What have we ever done to earn such animosity?"

Karak walks up to her and slaps her across the face with the back of his hand. "Talk to me like that again and I will have each and every man in my horde have his turn with you!" he shouts, "If the Akira were not meant to be sheared, then the gods would not have made them sheep!" And with that he grabs the bed skins, pulls them away, and then pulls Nanelia's legs out wide and forces himself inside her once again.

In the village of Akir, Malak is keeping the children of the village entertained with his Court Jester skills. Tumbling, taking Pratt falls, making funny faces, walking on his hands, and juggling. He currently has four fresh apples dancing through the air as the children laugh and applaud. Madmartigan an Red Sonja are putting some of the farmers through training drills, while Deathstalker and Subotai are teaching others how to use a bow and crossbow. Conan and Beastmaster are training the few Akira who have been given Jun swords some basic sword fighting techniques. Conan has to admit that for a bunch of novices to the ways of combat, they were becoming quite proficient. Suddenly Dar stops with their exercises and steps aside, a look of concentration, and perhaps even worry, upon his face.

"What is it?" asks Conan, "Why have you stopped?"

"The Juns are coming," replies Dar, "They'll be here soon."

"Are you sure?" asks the Cimmerian.

Dar nods his head affirmatively. "Sharak showed them to me through his eyes," he says, "There are at least forty of them by my count. They're being led by a large man with shaven head and cleft chin."

"That would be Braxus," says Shad, who was not far away and listening in, "He is Karak's second in command."

"Karak must have finally missed his scouts," says Dar.

"He will soon be missing a whole lot more," says Conan confidently, "Go get everyone in position. We're about to add some more swords to our armory."

"And some more scarecrows for sentry duty?" asks Shad.

"You learn quick," replies Conan, "Now go!"

Shad runs to do as he's told, and the villagers immediately take their assigned positions. The children who are too young to fight all find places to hide from the Juns. Kura and Sawa run up to Malak and hug him about the waist. "Be careful, Raggedy-Man," says the girl. Malak hugs them back and then motions for them to go hide. Once everyone is in position, the seven mercenaries meet up in the town square.

"When the Juns get here," says Conan, "I will do the talking."

"You?" says Madmartigan.

"Yes," replies the Cimmerian.

"No offense, but you hardly look like a leader. You look more like a barbarian. Heck, you could even pass for being one of the Juns themselves. The Hyrkanian isn't much better, nor Deathstalker. Sonja here looks more like she belongs in a brothel than on a battlefield. . . . No offense."

"Blow it out your ass Madmartigan," she replies, "No offense."

"Look, my point is, out of all of us I am the one who looks most like a military leader. I am a lord, the Stewart to the throne of Tir Asleen, guardian to The Sacred Princess Elora Danan, and general of her armies. As such I think . . ." Conan grabs Madmartigan by the front of his armor and lifts him up off the ground with one arm, "that _you_ should do the talking when the Juns get here. What say the rest of you?"

Subotai and Malak chuckle at this, and Red Sonja, Dar, and Deathstalker have to fight hard to hide their smiles. Conan drops Madmartigan to the ground and they go and take their positions. Braxus and his forty Juns come riding into the village. They rein their horses to a halt in the town square, where they find Malak whistling a tune while juggling the four knives from his boot sheathes. Malak pretends to be surprised by their arrival, and then begins juggling his knives even higher in the air. Then as the knives fall down to within his grasp, he snatches them from the air one after the other with his right hand and transfers them to his left hand. First one, then two, then three, and then he catches the fourth and final knife in his right hand and dips into a bow. Braxus leans over the horn of his saddle and glares at the thief. "Just who the hell are you?" he asks.

"His name is Malak!" says a voice from off to the side. Conan steps out from around the corner, his Atlantean sword sheathed at his hip. "And he is with me."

"And just who are you?" asks the Jun.

"I am Conan," replies the Cimmerian.

"What are you doing here?" demands Braxus, "This is our village."

"No longer!" says Conan, "I speak for the Akira now!"

"So the Akira have hired themselves a couple of mercenaries, have they?" says Braxus, "We'll I'm not about to be chased off by a juggler and a lone barbarian!"

"Then it's a good thing he's not alone," says a voice from behind. Braxus turns around to see Deathstalker on a rooftop behind him and to the right, an arrow nocked in his great bow, waiting to be drawn.

"And not all of his allies are jugglers," says another voice, as Subotai becomes visible on the rooftop of a house just across from where Deathstalker is perched. He too has an arrow nocked and drawn.

"Four, eh?" says Braxus, "You're still outnumbered ten to one."

"Juns must be _really_ bad at math," says Madmartigan as he steps out of a doorway, aiming a locked and loaded crossbow at the Juns, "What do you think Sonja?"

Red Sonja steps out of another doorway on the other side of the Juns, her sword drawn and the blade casually resting on her shoulder. "I never really gave them much credit for being big thinkers to begin with," she says.

"Still forty against six," says Braxus, "I still like our odds."

"Funny thing about playing the odds," says Dar as he casually walks into view, "Sooner or later, they can turn against you."

" _Beastmaster!_ " hisses the Jun. Of all the names in all the languages in all the world, none filled a Jun with as much loathing and contempt as the one which Dar is best known by.

This is enough for the Juns. Braxus draws his sword and screams " _Kill them all!"_

Madmartigan immediately fires his crossbow and kills one of the Juns before drawing his sword and charging into the melee. Deathstalker and Subotai begin firing arrows at the Juns. Each arrow finds its mark and slays one of the barbarians. Subotai fires his arrows far more quickly than Deathstalker, but Deathstalker's arrows are far more impressive, sometimes going all the way through the body of one Jun to continue on and bury itself into the body of another.

Braxus charges right for Conan. The Cimmerian draws his sword, but has to drop to a knee in order to keep from being decapitated. As he stands up, however, he cuts one Jun down from his horse, then another, and then another. When Braxus misses the Cimmerian with his sword, he instead charges straight at Dar. The Beastmaster parries the Jun's attack with his own sword, but fails to score with a counter attack as he rides by. He is more successful cutting down the other Juns as they ride by, however. One of the Juns tries to attack the Beastmaster from behind, but Ruh leaps from a nearby rooftop, pouncing on the Jun and tearing into him with teeth and claws.

Red Sonja cuts one Jun after another off of their horses as they ride past her. Some of them attempt to cut her down with ax or sword, but she manages to either dodge or parry any such attempts. Meanwhile Malak is throwing his knives into every Jun who is in range. He downs four of them in a matter of seconds before any of them even realize that he is there or that he poses a threat. One of the Juns spurs his horse into a gallop, heading straight for the thief, causing Malak to turn and run. He scrambles up a pile of firewood next to a house and then climbs up onto the roof. The Jun loses track of him, and Malak uses this opportunity to leap down behind him. He lands on the back of the horse, a knife in each hand, and stabs the Jun in front of him in the sides several times, and then slashes the Jun's throat from ear to ear. Malak pushes the dying barbarian off of his mount and spurs the beast into a gallop towards the rest of the Juns. Two of the Juns wheel their horses about to confront the thief, and Malak sends his twin knives soaring into their throats as he charges them.

Malak draws the two knives from the back of his belt and hurls them into two more Juns, hitting the mark and killing them both. A group of about twelve Juns turn their mounts about and charge after the thief. Malak turns his own mount around and flees. The Juns chase Malak down the street, where they find themselves being fired upon from all sides by Akira armed with bows, slings, and crossbows. The Juns fall from their mounts, arrows and crossbow bolts protruding from them at all angles, some of them dead, others just badly injured. More Akira come running from their homes, armed with sharpened sticks and wooden clubs, and finish then off. Then they take the Juns' fallen weapons and arm themselves with better weapons.

A group of Juns comes charging past Kaylar's house as the old man steps out of his front door, crossbow in hand. He takes aim and fires, killing a Jun barbarian. Another Jun sees his companion fall and charges at Kaylar in order to take revenge. As he comes near to the old man, Shad bursts from his father's house, dressed in his father's armor, and drives his trident into the Jun's chest. The center prong pierces the barbarian's heart, while the other two prongs puncture the lungs on either side. Shad draws his father's scimitar from its sheath and holds it up high. "Death to the Juns!" he cries.

At his proclamation, the houses empty of their occupants. Dozens of Akira storm the streets armed with captured swords and battle axes, wood axes and butcher knives, hunting spears and tridents, pitchforks and shovels, or simply wooden clubs and staffs. The Juns, their numbers decimated by the skills of these seven mercenaries, are now being overwhelmed by the Akira's suddenly superior numbers.

Braxus looks about at the disaster that has befallen him and his men. Juns are being pulled from their horses. They're being slashed, stabbed, skewered, bludgeoned, and beaten. Of the forty who had accompanied him to Akir, less than a dozen remain and they are being quickly overwhelmed. Braxus spurs his horse into a gallop and heads towards the main road into the village, only to find the way blocked. The Akira had rolled a cart into the road, preventing his escape. The Jun makes for it anyway, goading his horse to even greater speed. The horse makes an incredible leap, clearing the wooden cart and landing safely on the other side. Conan sees him fleeing.

"Subotai!" cries the Cimmerian, "Braxus! Shoot him down! Don't let him escape!"

Subotai takes aim with his bow and lets fly an arrow. He misses his target and instead hits the Jun's mount in its hind end. The horse nickers in pain and its hind leg buckles, but it continues its flight. Subotai lets fly another arrow. This time his arrow strikes home, but it only hits Braxus in the back of his shoulder. Quickly Subotai nocks another arrow and fires again. This arrow strikes Braxus in the lower back, just to the left of his spine. Subotai tries again, this last arrow hitting Braxus in the buttocks.

"Deathstalker!" shouts Subotai, "He's getting too far out of range! Can you hit him?"

Deathstalker nocks an arrow to his great bow and draws back the string. Taking careful aim at the fleeing Jun he lets fly. His arrow strikes Braxus in the other shoulder, but with enough force to go clean through so that the arrow head is protruding from the front. Braxus slumps over his mount, but keeps on riding. Deathstalker nocks another arrow and takes aim, but the Jun has made it to a bend in the road and is no longer in sight. The Akira cheer as they see the injured Braxus flee, his forty companions laying dead in the streets of their humble village. Shad runs up to Conan, bloody scimitar in hand.

"Conan!" he says, "We won! Should I go after him? I'm a good hunter, I can track him easily!"

"No," says Dar, who is not far away, "Let him go."

"But he's seen our defenses," argues Shad, "If he can tell Karak what we've done here, they could come up with a counter strategy."

"Perhaps," agrees the Beastmaster, "But allowing him to return home is important for other reasons."

"Like what?" Shad asks.

In response, Dar holds out his arm and imitates an eagle's cry. A moment later Sharak swoops down and lands on the thick leather bracer on the Beastmaster's arm. Dar gently strokes the bird's feathers and then tells it, "Follow him."

The eagle takes wing and flies up into the air in the direction that Braxus was fleeing. The Beastmaster turns to the young farmer. "Like learning the location of their Hidden Fortress," he says.

Shad can only nod his head in agreement.


	8. First Wave

**Chapter Eight**

 **First Wave**

After their victory over Braxus and his Jun war party, Conan and his fellow sell swords organize the Akira into a clean up detail. They gather up the slain Juns, strip them of their weapons and armor, dress them up as farmers, and then impale them on wooden poles and position them along the perimeter like macabre scarecrows, adding to their decoys. Once the unpleasant business of setting up the decoys is complete, the celebrations begin. Music is played on instruments. Men, women, and children dance for joy. They tell stories about their involvement in the battle, often exaggerating the facts to make their part seem crucial to their victory. An odd practice considering everyone there had taken part or at least witnessed the battle, but such is the way of things. Malak is in top form, juggling and performing acrobatic tricks, slight of hand tricks and just plain acting silly. At one point he hands ten children each a head of cabbage, and then (using pantomime) instructs them to toss the cabbages into the air one at a time. The children do as asked, and Malak hurls his knives into the flying targets. Kura, Sawa, and a third Akira child all throw their cabbages into the air at once. Despite the unexpected challenge, Malak proves himself to be up to the task. In a blur of motion he hurls three knives at the three targets and hits every single one, the knife blades buried up to the hilt each time. The children are all delighted by the display. The farmer who grew the cabbages is far less so. "My cabbages!" he cries in dismay. Malak and the children all laugh as they gather up the vegetables and the knives and run off to find more mischief.

In the town square, the swords of Deathstalker and Red Sonja clash repeatedly in a virtual symphony of steel on steel. Deathstalker could not get the thought of Sonja's vow out of his head, and insisted on them fighting a duel. Purely non-lethal, of course, as there were still many Juns left to fight. However he'd be damned if he were to let her die without bedding her first. So he made the challenge. "Flats of the blades," he said, "First to be struck three times, or is forced to yield, loses." Thus far, neither of them has succeeded in getting past the other's defenses.

"Come on, you braggart!" shouts Madmartigan, "You wouldn't shut up about how you were going to bed the wench. . . His words, not mine. . . And now you can't even get past her defenses long enough to give her a slap on the rump!"

"I'm surprised you haven't challenged me!" Sonja calls back without missing a step in her deadly dance with the imposing gladiator, "I thought you were supposed to be the greatest swordsman who ever lived!"

"I am, my dear!" replies Madmartigan, "And had we met a few years ago, I would have taken you up on your challenge, and then taken you to my bed! But alas, I am now a happily married man. Married to a beautiful red haired warrior woman who is every bit as fierce and as skilled as you are. And if I were to ever stray, no sword, spell, armor, or shield would ever protect me from her wrath!"

"A man of honor surrounded by thieves?" she says, still clashing blades with Deathstalker as though her very life depends on it.

"I've always been a man of honor!" replies Madmartigan, "I just forgot for a little while."

"Less talking!" pants Deathstalker, "More fighting!"

The gladiator takes another swing at Red Sonja who, while sweating, is not yet winded. The red haired woman parries the attack with her own sword, and then with a deft twist and flick of the wrist, sends Deathstalker's sword flying. With lightning like reflexes, Sonja drops into a spinning leg sweep. The heel of her right foot catches Deathstalker's ankles with enough force to take his legs out from under him. He comes down hard on his back, forcing the air out of his lungs. He gasps in an attempt to get life giving air back into his lungs. By the time his breathing returns to normal, he has Red Sonja's booted foot planted on his chest and the point of her sword resting against his throat. The man holds his hands up in defeat. "I yield," he says.

Red Sonja graces him with a smile and then sheathes her sword and walks away. Deathstalker lays on the ground, admiring her backside as she walks off to find food and drink. "I hat to see her go," he says, "But I love to watch her leave."

The only member of the Akira that is not celebrating their victory is Kaylar. He politely encourages the others to participate, but he declines himself. Conan walks up to him, a cup of wine in one hand and a roasted chicken leg in the other. "Don't feel like celebrating?" asks the Cimmerian.

"They act as though they have won the war," says the old man, "When what they have truly done is bloodied a river full of piranha. A river that they must now wade across."

"You don't think that we can win against the Juns?"

"I question your tactics," replies Kaylar, "If the Juns come forty or fifty at a time, with your help we would defeat them. But by letting Braxus return to Karak and the rest of the Juns, we will be disturbing a hornets nest. One that will be emptied and on its way here shortly."

"Very true, on all counts," agrees Conan, "But we cannot wait for them to attack a few at a time in small groups. There will be a week of waiting between every attack. Time that your people will not be tending their fields. And the village defenses will not hold for multiple attacks. They will work for one, maybe two. If we had the time to build a proper wall around the town, that would be one thing. But we don't. We also have to consider your crops. Multiple attacks would mean multiple groups trampling your fields. Without sufficient time to recover, the Akira would go hungry this winter with or without the Juns."

"Perhaps," concedes Kaylar, "But we at least would have the knowledge that all future harvests would belong to us and not the Juns."

"And your lost women would remain lost," says Conan, "This way we empty the hornets nest, and then relieve it of its captives after we are done."

"Assuming that Karak takes the bait. He is more cunning than the Jun chieftains that had come before him. Not just an unthinking brute like others."

"Which is why it is important to anger him," counters Conan, "Even the most skilled tactician will tend to act hastily, make rash decisions, if sufficiently angered."

"And you think you will achieve this with Karak?"

"I pray that it is so."

"I pray that you are right," says Kaylar, "Else we are all dead."

"Such is life when you live by the sword," says Conan.

"I have seen both peace and war, Cimmerian," says Kaylar, "And believe me, I prefer the former."

"Yet it is the latter which makes the former possible."

"I just hope that my people can survive this," says Kaylar, "Not just physically, but spiritually."

"Those who adapt will survive," says Conan, "Those who cannot. . . ." he lets the sentence hang in the air.

Kaylar nods his head in understanding and walks away. Conan is right, he knows. The old man makes a concerted effort not to spoil the mood of the celebration. It is important to maintain a high morale in situations such as these. Walls can be battered down by crushed morale as easily as by the mightiest battering ram.

Miles away, Braxus rides his horse back to the Juns' Hidden Fortress. The horse doesn't move very well, as the arrow in its rump is causing it to limp terribly on its hind leg. Braxus himself is not much better. His skin has taken on a pale, sickly colour, and he is dripping in sweat. His perspiration has little to do with the warmth of the summer however. The Jun is slowly dying, and he knows it. None of the arrows that pierced him had struck any organs which would be immediately fatal. Neither had they opened up any major blood vessels, or if they had then the arrows themselves were preventing Braxus from bleeding out. Braxus had seen many wounds inflicted on the battlefield, and he was fairly certain he knew which arrow was killing him. The one in his lower back, next to his spine, had likely opened up his intestines. With every passing moment, bile was seeping into his bloodstream. It was a slow, agonizing death. A person with such an injury could live for days. And when Death finally claims him, it will be a blessing. He had left many men and women on the battlefield with such wounds. He delighted in the knowledge of their prolonged suffering. In fact, he preferred it over giving his enemies a swift and painless death. Such delicious irony that he himself should die of such a wound. He keeps his horse moving as quickly as he dares, for every bump of the horse's canter sends waves of agony through the Jun's entire body. He doesn't even rest the beast at night, making it walk in the darkness of the hour. He cannot afford rest, as any time lost could be the difference between living to tell Karak about the Beastmaster and his allies, and dying on the road. So he pushes on. So sick with fever is the Jun that he never even sees the eagle which has been following him. Braxus guides his horse through a veritable maze of twists and turns up the mountain, until he finally reaches his destination. Carved into the mountain stone are steps leading up to twin stone pillars. The pillars are carved to resemble giant stone snakes poised to strike. Between the two pillars is a set of heavy double doors. Carved into the doors is the symbol of two snakes coming together over a black sun, facing each other, yet with a single body being shared between the two.

A group of about a dozen Juns, who had been standing guard at the main doors, come running over to meet Braxus as he arrives. The powerful Jun slips from his saddle and into the arms of his fellow barbarians as injuries, fatigue, and fever overcome him. The other Juns gather up their second in command and carry him inside.

In an enormous chamber within the compound, nearly all of the Juns have gathered together for an evening of depravity and debauchery. Scores of Juns in various stages of undress are taking their pleasure with young women, most of them kidnapped from trade caravans or small farming villages like Akir. Some of the women struggle against their captors, resisting with all their strength as their bodies are being violated. Others have long since given up and just lay on their backs or get down on their hands and knees and allow the Juns to have their fun. There are Jun women here too. Their faces so hideous, their teeth so rotten, their backs so hairy, the only way one who is not a Jun could even tell them apart is by their bosoms. Some of the Jun men have their way with their own women as well as with those who have been captured. Unlike the enslaved women, the female Juns seem to enjoy their constant abuse at the hands of their men. Sitting on a throne of iron, decorated by the bones and skulls of men, Karak oversees the entire orgy. Sitting at Karak's feet, wearing nothing but a leather collar to which a steel chain is fastened, is Nanelia. Karak looks about the great chamber. They were lucky to have found this fortress in the mountains, though Karak doesn't care much for the snake motif in every chamber and hallway. It provided the remnants of the Jun Horde a safe place to recover from their disastrous assault on Aruk those years ago. It was also well stocked with weapons and armor, though long left unused. And as more Juns come to his side, as well as others of like minds, he will soon have an army large enough to crush all that stands before them underfoot. A smile creeps upon Karak's face, but vanishes a moment later as the main doors to the Orgy Chamber burst open and several of his men carry the barely conscious body of his second in command into the room and lay him down upon some furs. Karak grabs Nanelia by her leash and drags her across the room. He kneels beside the fallen Braxus.

"What happened?" demands Karak, "Who did this to you? Where are your men?"

" _Dead. . . ."_ whispers Braxus, " _All. . . . Dead. The. . . . Akira . . . Dug in. . . . Ready to. . . . Fight."_

"A bunch of filthy farmers did this?" says Karak incredulously.

" _Not. . . . Alone. . . . Had. . . . Help."_

"Help? Who helped them? How many were there?"

" _Beast. . . . Master. . . Had. . . . Friends."_

"The Beastmaster?" says Karak, "Are you sure? Who were his friends? How many of them are there?" Braxus doesn't answer. His eyes stare wide open, but see nothing. "Braxus? Braxus! _BRAXUS!"_

"He's gone," says one of his lieutenants.

"Bring me everyone," says Karak, "We ride at first light."

"What do you mean, everyone?" asks the lieutenant.

Karak grabs the Jun by the throat and pulls him right up to his face. "I mean _EVERY ONE!"_ he screams. "Every warrior we have. Every gray beard who is not yet too feeble to swing a sword or ax. Every boy strong enough to lift a spear. Have them all armed and armored in time to leave as the sun crests the horizon. I want the Beastmaster dead! His friends, dead! The Akira, dead! I don't want anything left of that pathetic little hamlet that even resembles a dwelling! We will trample their ashes into the Earth and no one will ever know that they had been there at all!"

"We haven't enough horses for that many men," protests the lieutenant.

"Then whoever cannot ride will have to run!" shouts Karak, "The Beastmaster stabbed my mother in the back on top of the Temple of Ar! And then he slew my father and threw his body into a burning moat! And now he's killed my second in command! I want his head on a _SPIKE!"_

"Yes sir!" says the lieutenant, and he runs to do as he was bid.

One of the other Jun lieutenants pull the arrows from Braxus' back. "These arrows were not made by any farmer," he says, "These were designed for combat, not hunting." Then he holds one of Subotai's arrows next to Deathstalker's. "These two were not fired from the same bow. This one has a longer, thicker shaft and heavier arrow head. It would take an extraordinarily large and powerful bow to be able to fire an arrow such as this. The other one, more typical of a bow from Aruk."

"So the Beastmaster has a couple of archers with him?" asks Karak.

"So it would seem," agrees the lieutenant, "Or at least one, while he is the other."

"I have never heard of him using a bow," says Karak, "He prefers the sword in combat."

"Two archers then," agrees the lieutenant, "Plus whatever animals that will come to his call."

"By all accounts, a tiger and an eagle at least."

"Then we shall dine well when all is done," says Karak.

The rest of the night is spent preparing for war. All of the mightiest Jun warriors mount up on horses, while all others prepare to run to Akir on foot. Old men, their hair wild and gray, muscles sagging with age, carrying swords and axes they have not wielded in battle for years. Boys no more than twelve years old, wearing helmets much too large for them, carrying spears with a noticeable lack of proficiency. They are all gathered with men who are clearly healthy, able bodied, and skilled warriors. The giant wooden doors to the fortress open up and the entire Jun Horde come pouring out. None of them notice the eagle soaring high above.

The Juns move out in a forced march. Those on horseback ride at a canter, while those on foot are made to jog along behind them. They take minimum rests for food and water, instead pushing on to the limits of their endurance. As night falls Karak orders them not to set up camp, but rather to push on. Their pace has slowed to a walk so as not to risk injuring their horses in the dark, but they press on. As day breaks they mount up once more and pick up the pace. They continue on like this until they are about half a day's ride away from the village of Akir. At this point they find several large trees had fallen across their path, at a point in the road in which the slope on either side of their path is too steep for their horses to navigate. The trees are very large, many decades old, and they had fallen so that the part of the trunk where the branches are thickest are directly across the road. As such the horses cannot simply jump over them, and the Infantry cannot simply climb over them. A quick investigation shows that these trees had been cut down deliberately.

"Clever," says Karak, "The Beastmaster knows that we Juns thrive on horseback. He put these here to slow our progress. Give the Akira more time to hone their defenses, while at the same time tiring our own warriors while they clear the road."

"So what are we going to do?" asks one of the Jun lieutenants.

"Clear the road of course!" shouts Karak, "This diversion will only delay the inevitable! In the end The Beastmaster, and every last one of the Akira, will perish!"

"Right!" says the lieutenant. Then he turns to the other Juns, "Those of you with axes, get chopping! The rest of you! Start hauling away whatever's been cut away!"

With a precision and discipline that any civilized army would admire, the Jun Horde get right to work. Axes designed to cleave flesh and bone are quickly put to use chopping into the fallen tree trunks. The older, gray haired veterans and the children who have yet to see battle use their swords and hand axes to hack away at the heavy branches in order to make the trees easier to move. Even with virtually every member of the Jun Horde working at it, it still takes several hours to clear the road. When the village of Akir is finally in sight, dusk has fallen.

The Juns find that the Akira have set the wall of kindling that surrounds the village alight. The green wood that is piled atop the kindling smolders, letting off great amounts of thick gray smoke which blankets the village. Karak nods his head in a mixture of admiration and understanding. "Very clever, Beastmaster," he says.

"I don't understand," says one of his lieutenants, a powerful warrior named Strabo, "Surely out horses can jump such a feeble wall, even if it is on fire."

"Not wise to try," says Karak, "See how the wall of flames is positioned just ahead of that wall of wooden stakes? If our horses were to jump the flames, they'd land right into those spikes, skewering themselves, and likely their riders. They may even stop abruptly just before the flames, throwing their riders clear across the wall of fire and into the waiting spikes. And the green wood is giving off a tremendous amount of smoke, obscuring our vision. Taking away the advantage of numbers, and disguising their decoys."

"What decoys?"

"Look at how many men are standing guard behind their second barrier," replies Karak, "There are more of them than there are male Akira in the village."

"Perhaps the Beastmaster has brought more friends than just the two archers and his animals," suggests Strabo.

"Perhaps," concedes Karak, "We won't know until we attack."

"And when are we to do that?" asks Strobo. Karak turns and glares at his lieutenant. Strobo nods his head in understanding, and then draws his sword. " _CHARGE!"_ he cries, and spurs his horse into a gallop. Every Jun on horseback follows suit, charging down the main road towards the village. As the Juns who are on foot move to follow, Karak holds up a hand for them to halt.

"Wait!" he commands, and all of the Juns obey. Karak sits and watches his warriors' charge.

Strobo leads the charge down the road, more than two hundred Juns following close behind. With the wall of flames preventing entry on all sides except for this very road. Strobo smells a trap, but he doesn't dare disobey Karak. The road is wide enough for three men on horseback to ride abreast. The Juns come thundering into the village. Once three score Juns have crossed the threshold, Akira archers, led by Deathstalker on the right side of the road and Subotai on the left, stand up in the trenches and let fly their arrows and crossbow bolts. They aim for the Juns who are right in the gap of their burning wall of green wood. Several Juns and their mounts fall under the hail of arrows, tripping up the Juns behind them. This break in the charge gives the Akira a chance to block off the road. Like before, they wheel a couple of carts into the road, effectively barricading themselves in as well as trapping the Juns in the village with them at the same time.

The Akira archers spread out, shooting arrows at the Juns within their village as they are without. Deathstalker and Subotai leave the border defense to the Akira and join the fray in the streets. Both mercenaries run shoot arrows at the Juns while running towards the barbarians. Once they're within melee range, they both draw their swords. While the Juns have been bred for mounted combat, they still can't seem to counter the attacks of these two mercenaries. Strobo guides his men through the streets, hoping to take away some of the defenders' advantage.

The Juns stuck outside of the Akira's burning wall circle the village, shooting their crossbows at any target that presents itself. As Conan had predicted, many of these crossbow bolts found their way into the bodies of the decoys set about the perimeter, although a fair number also struck living Akira. The Akira shot back, but many of them were novices with such weapons and had trouble hitting moving targets. But enough Juns fell to Akira arrows for the act to not seem an act of futility.

As Strobo and his Juns go riding past a pair of houses with a low stone wall built in between them, Malak jumps up onto the low wall, knives in hand, and whips them into two of the passing Juns, killing them. A small group of about six Juns stop and look in the thief's direction. Malak places the tips of his thumbs to his temple's and wiggles his fingers, making a face at the invading barbarians. Had he still a tongue within his mouth, he would have blown a raspberry at them. The Juns wheel about and spur their horses into a charge at the thief. Malak turns and runs away from the charging horsemen. The horses easily clear the low wall, but too late their riders realize the trap that they had been baited into. A length of rope, blackened by rubbing soot into the fibers and difficult to see, had been strung up between the two houses. The Juns are clotheslined off of their mounts in mid leap, crashing down hard in the dirt. Several Akira come out from around the corner carrying wood axes, pitchforks, knives, even clubs. They fall upon the Juns before the invaders can even begin to recover from their fall. The Juns never rise again.

As Strobo and his horsemen ride into the town square, they see The Beastmaster waiting for them on one knee, his sword resting next to him, its tip stuck into the earth. Strobo leads a charge of his remaining horsemen at their most hated enemy. Dar closes his eyes and touches the minds of the horses telepathically. Many of the horses, including Strobo's, rear up on their hind legs, throwing their riders off. Red Sonja, Madmartigan, and Conan come charging out of several houses on either side of the town square leading a charge of armed Akira, including the young Shad. Deathstalker, Subotai, and even Malak come up from behind with still more Akira looking to stop the Juns.

Conan charges right into the invaders. The Cimmerian cuts down one just as he's regaining his feet after being thrown by his horse. Another Jun has already recovered and attacks Conan with his sword. Conan parries the attack and counters with a slash across the chest. Another Jun comes at the Cimmerian with a battle ax raised to strike, and Conan runs him through with his Atlantean sword. Another tries to skewer Conan with his spear, but the Cimmerian cuts the weapon's shaft in two and then separates the Jun's head from his neck.

Red Sonja is similarly successful in her encounters. A Jun warrior comes at her with a spiked mace. She ducks the attack, which was aimed at her head, and stabs the Jun through the gut with her sword. Another Jun comes charging at her with an ax. She pulls her blade from the barbarian's belly and uses the momentum to slash across the other Jun's chest, and then follows up with a slash across the Jun's throat. Another Jun attacks her with a sword. She parries the strike and counters with one of her own. He parries her attack and counters with a thrust. Sonja sidesteps the attack and then slashes him across the small of his back. He drops to his knees, his spine severed, and she runs him through the chest.

Madmartigan is a blur of movement. He slashes a Jun across the belly, moves past and runs one through the chest. A Jun comes at the knight with a flail whirling over his head. Madmartigan ducks under the attack, cutting the Jun's legs out from under him. Another Jun comes charging at Madmartigan with an ax. The knight pulls a dagger from his belt and hurls it into the Jun's chest, killing him, and in the same motion thrusts his sword through the heart of yet another Jun.

Deathstalker comes up to a Jun who is still on his horse with his sword drawn, and with his off hand he punches the horse right in the jaw. The animal goes tumbling down, taking its rider with it. The Jun gets to his feet just in time to be cut in half at the waist by the gladiator. A Jun charges Deathstalker with a spear, which he cuts in two before relieving the Jun of his head. Another Jun tries attacking Deathstalker with his sword in a downward slash. The gladiator parries the attack with his own sword, and then counters with a thrust. The Jun tries to block it with his shield, but the blade goes right through the metal and into the flesh behind it.

Subotai is a blur of movement, much like Madmartigan. His scimitar in one hand, a dagger in the other, he slashes and stabs his way through the Jun ranks. A Jun attacks the Hyrkanian with a sword. Subotai parries it with his scimitar, and then counters with a thrust from his dagger, stabbing the barbarian in the chest. As Subotai pulls the dagger from one Jun's chest, he turns and thrusts his scimitar into the belly of another, and then quickly slashes the Jun's throat with his dagger. As he pulls the blade of his scimitar out of the one Jun's belly, Subotai drops to a knee as he ducks another Jun's awing with a spiked mace. As the Jun steps past with the momentum of his swing, the Hyrkanian slashes him across the belly with his scimitar and then stabs him in the small of the back as he comes up behind him.

Malak stays out of the thick of things as best he can. While quite good with his knives and daggers, he has no armor to speak of, and his blades are too small to use to parry the heavy weapons of the Juns. Still, he wasn't about to let his friends down. Whenever an opportunity to hurl a knife into a Jun presents itself, he takes full advantage. And any Jun within arms reach who is foolish enough to turn his back to the thief soon regrets it. Malak has now exhausted his entire arsenal of throwing knives and is down to the twin daggers he keeps belted on his hips. The thief is looking for a Jun to backstab when one of them notices him from across the street. The Jun pulls his crossbow from his back and aims it at Malak. Malak sees the danger, but has nowhere to hide from it. He's out in the open with no cover anywhere nearby. Just as the Jun is about to pull the trigger, a rock sails across the square and hits him in the helmet. Both Malak and the Jun turn to see where the rock came from. Standing off to the side not too far from Malak, a leather sling whirling above her head, is the little Akira girl, Kura. "You leave Raggedy-Man alone!" she yells, "This is my home! Get out! Now!" She lets fly with another stone, which hits the Jun solidly in the forehead. Unfortunately his helmet is designed with a face guard, and the rock bounces harmlessly off. Kura sets another rock into her sling and sets it spinning.

The Jun swerves his crossbow away from Malak and takes aim at Kura. The girl courageously, or perhaps stupidly, stands her ground and continues to prepare to sling another stone at the invader. Malak flips a dagger over in his hand so as he's holding it by the blade and cocks his arm to throw it at the Jun. At the last second a horse wanders into Malak's line of sight, disrupting his throw. The thief lets out a primal yell as he runs towards the young girl. He dives at Kura just as the Jun pulls the trigger, putting his body between her and the oncoming crossbow bolt while pushing her to the ground. The bolt strikes Malak in the back, piercing his lung and slashing open a major blood vessel. Kura looks Malak in the eye, her concern for him made plain on her face. The thief smiles reassuringly at her, and then puts his finger to his mouth and makes a "shush" gesture, followed by him pantomiming playing dead. Kura nods her head in understanding and quickly plays dead. Malak clutches his daggers, waiting for the Jun to approach and make sure that they're dead. Each breath becomes more difficult than the last as the thief's lungs fill with blood. Malak finds his hands are having a harder and harder time maintaining their grip on his daggers. He silently prays to Bel, God of Thieves, that he will at least be able to stop this one Jun from harming that little girl before Death claims him.

The Jun has dropped his crossbow and pulled a battle ax from his belt as he walks across the square to where Malak and Kura lay. The Jun bends down and reaches out to roll Malak over onto his back, so that he might witness the fear in the thief's eyes as he ends his life. The second that the Jun's hand touches Malak's shoulder, Malak quickly rolls over and slashes the barbarian across the throat with his left handed dagger. The Jun's eyes widen in shock. He drops his ax and clutches his throat with both hands in a desperate attempt to stop the flow of his life's blood. A split second later, Malak rises to his knees and thrusts his right handed dagger into the Jun's belly, just below the sternum. The Jun instinctively drops his hands to his belly, grasping the hilt of the dagger sticking from his gut. The blood pours from his open neck wound as he collapses in the dirt road. Malak takes his left handed dagger by the blade with his right hand, preparing to throw it at one last enemy, but all strength has left his body and he collapses in the dirt, his dagger lying next to him.

Kura opens her eyes and sees Malak laying on the ground a few feet away. "Raggedy-Man?" she says. Malak doesn't respond. "Raggedy-Man?" she says again, this time a little more urgently. Still no responce. Panic begins to swell within her as she begins to crawl over to the thief. "No no no no no no no," she says as she scrambles over on her hands and knees. She begins to shake Malak's body in an effort to revive him. "No, Raggedy-Man" she says, "Don't die! Please don't die! Please! I promise, I won't call you Raggedy-Man anymore! Your name's Malak! Don't die Malak! Please don't die! Malak! _Malak! MALAK! PLEASE MALAK! PLEASE DON'T DIE! PLEASE MALAK! DON'T DIE! DON'T DIE MALAK! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEEEASE! MALAAAK!"_ Finally Kura just rests her head upon Malak's chest and sobs uncontrollably. And as Malak looks unseeing out into the heavens, his face has a serene expression of content.

Dar takes up his sword and heads straight for Strobo. The Jun lieutenant is a veteran of many battles, however, and has been riding and fighting on horseback since his earliest recollection. This was hardly the first time he had ever been thrown from his horse, and he recovered quickly. The Beastmaster tries a straightforward overhead downward slash with his sword, which Strobo parries with his own blade.

The Jun counters with a horizontal slash aimed at Dar's chest, which Dar in turn parries. Dar sweeps his enemy's blade aside and attempts a thrust to the heart. Strobo sidesteps the attack and attempts a horizontal slash aimed at Dar's neck. The Beastmaster takes a knee as he ducks under the swing, and then goes into a forward roll as Strobo attempts a downward diagonal slash.

Dar springs to his feet and heads straight at the Jun, making multiple attacks in rapid succession. Diagonal, horizontal, vertical, straight thrusts, right, left, down low, up high. In the span of a few heartbeats Dar has attacked Strobo from every conceivable side and angle. The Jun, to his credit, successfully parries every strike.

Strobo then thrusts his own blade towards Dar's heart. The Beastmaster sidesteps the attack and parries the blade in one fluid motion. Then, continuing the momentum, he pivots and steps behind the Jun lieutenant and slashes him across the back, severing his spine. The Jun's legs collapse beneath him as he falls to his knees. Then Dar grips his sword in both hands and decapitates the Jun.

The rest of the Juns are soon overcome by the defending Akira. While the barbarians are more battle hardened, the farmers are very tenacious. They are fighting for their lives and their homes, not for the avarice of others. And in all of nature, few animals are more dangerous than those who are cornered, or who are protecting their young. And the Akira are both. When the battle is over, the Beastmaster climbs up onto the roof of the tallest building in the village. He has Ruh with him, and he raises an arm and calls out to Sharak, who swoops down and lands on the leather gauntlet that Dar wears on one hand. With his other hand, Dar holds the severed head of the Jun lieutenant Strobo up into the air. He then tosses the head aside as though it were mere trash.

Not far away, watching the battle, Karak sees this and fumes in rage. The Jun Chieftain brings a horn to his lips and blows a powerful note, bringing his horsemen back to him. All the while he sits on his horse and glares at the Beastmaster.

 **Author's Note**

 _Yeah, I paid a little tribute to_ Avatar: The Last Airbender _in this chapter. I couldn't help it, the set up was just too good. And some of you might notice my little_ Mad Max _reference by the little girl calling Malak "Raggedy-Man" (Tina Turner's nickname for Max in_ Beyond Thunderdome). _Another tribute. As are the children's names (_ Kura and Sawa _)._


	9. Second Wave

**Chapter Nine**

 **Second Wave**

As the Juns pull back to their leader's position, the Akira quickly set to shoring up their defenses. Several of their able bodied adults begin throwing logs of dry wood onto the ring of fire which surrounds the village. As the flames increase in size and intensity, they also begin adding green wood to the fire, increasing their smoke screen. Meanwhile their dead and injured are moved to a storehouse which has been converted into a make shift hospital. Subotai comes up to Conan as the Cimmerian surveys the situation. "How many did we lose?" asks Conan.

"Of the seven of us?" replies Subotai, "Only Malak. Of the Akira? There are fifteen dead. Another seven were badly injured. They will live, but they're out of the fight."

"Twenty three," says Conan, "Nearly a third of the adults in the village."

"We killed at least seventy of theirs," says Subotai, "That's at least three of their dead for each of ours that falls."

"True," agrees the Cimmerian, "But another couple of victories like this one and we'll lose the war."

"It has been said that superior numbers do not guarantee victory."

"You and I have both witnessed the truth of that statement," concedes Conan, "But we both know that superior numbers do tend to help."

Conan leaves his old friend to his business and heads over to Malak's body. Kneeling next to the slain thief are Kura, her brother Sawa, and a handful of other Akira children. The children are all crying. Conan kneels down next to his slain friend, across from the children, and rests the tip of his Atlantean sword in the floor. Kura looks up at the Cimmerian with tears streaming down her cheeks. "They killed him!" she cries, "He was my friend and they killed him!"

"He fought well," says Conan, "No one could ask for a better death than that."

"I _hate them!_ " she cries, "When I grow up I'm going to become the greatest warrior ever! I'm going to hunt down the Juns and kill them all! Every last one! I'm going to cut off their heads and set them on spikes!"

"You cared a great deal for him, didn't you?"

"He was my friend," she says again.

"And mine," agrees Conan, "Malak was a friend to all orphans, even older ones like me."

"You are an orphan too?"

Conan nods his head in the affirmative. "I was born in a village not unlike this one. Like you, my people lived off the land. We mostly lived off of what the forest gave us. Fish, game, wild fruits and berries. Then when I was not much older than you are now, men not unlike the Juns came to my village and killed everyone. The children were sold into slavery. The boys were made to grind wheat into flour so that others might eat. And the girls . . . the girls had a worse fate. I know well the anger that you feel, and the desire for revenge."

"The Juns will pay for what they've done here," she says.

"They will," agrees Conan, "By my hand. Malak would not want your life to be consumed by hate. He liked to pretend that he was an uncaring person when it came to the suffering of others. But when we rode together, he was always careful to only take jobs that would not hurt the poor, or leave children hungry. And he would secretly tithe one fourth of all of his earnings to a local orphanage, so that the children who lived there would be given good food and clothing. He thought I didn't know. But I have always found it best to know everything about the men and women that I ride with."

"I still want them dead," says the girl.

"I know," says Conan. Then the Cimmerian reaches behind his back and pulls a leather bundle from his belt and hands it to the girl. "Here," he says, "I think Malak would have wanted you to have this."

Kura unties the bundle and opens up the piece of leather it is wrapped in. It's Malak's daggers. She looks up at Conan. "When you are old enough," he tells her, "If you still wish to learn how to fight and seek your vengeance, then come and find me. I will see to it you get the training which you will require." Then the barbarian gets up and walks away, leaving the girl to grieve in her own way.

Shad walks up to the Cimmerian. "Are you really going to teach her how to fight?" he asks.

"If that is what she wants," says Conan, "When this is over, I want you to have some people prepare Malak a meal. Full course. The best food you have. And then have it buried with him."

"Cook him a meal and then bury it?"

"That was our deal. A meal and a place to hide."

"As you wish," replies the farmer, "What of our defenses?"

"Karak is likely devising a counter strategy to the defenses we have set up," replies Conan, "He was smart in only sending his horsemen. He may have lost a significant number of his best warriors in that attack, but he also managed to weaken our defenses in the process, and see our strategy at work."

"What do you suppose he'll do next?"

"He will send in his Infantry to back up his cavalry," says Conan, "They will likely try and get through the ring of fire. That is where we are weakest. We haven't the manpower to protect the entire perimeter, and he knows it."

"So why didn't he just do that in the first place?"

"If he had, and lost, we would have wiped him out. Now he can guide his men to where we are weakest, and at the same time hit us where we are strongest."

"I don't understand."

"I don't understand," says Dak, one of Karak's Jun lieutenants. He is looking at a rough model of the village which Karak had set up on the ground. Several fist sized stones are arranged in an approximation of the locations of the various houses in the village. Twigs are stuck in the ground forming a perimeter around the stones, representing the spiked trench around the perimeter of the village. Around that he had drawn a line in the dirt to represent the wall of fire which surrounds the spiked trench. Karak sighs in exasperation.

"It's very simple," he says, "The bulk of our remaining horsemen will attack here, at the main gate," and he points with a stick to the area meant to represent the entrance to the village, "While at the same time our warriors without horses will be joined by our gray beards and attack them from the south, right here," and he points to the opposite side of the village. "They will use their spears to scatter the fires fuel and provide a breach through which we can enter their village."

"But the villagers. . . ." begins Brog, Dak's identical twin brother.

"The villagers will be busy stopping our cavalry from storming their gates," explains Karak, "The bulk of their fighting force needs to be stationed on either side of the gap that they had left us to enter by, in order to spring their trap and divide and conquer us. That means that most of their perimeter is left unguarded. Most of those sentries we see standing guard are in fact the bodies of our own brethren."

"And these farmers call _us_ barbarians," says a third Jun lieutenant, a large man named Kassar.

Karak smiles at his lieutenant. "I would say they probably hired other barbarians to help them fight us. What better way to fight a barbarian than with the aid of a barbarian?"

"So we have to battle the Beastmaster and his animals, at least two archers, and a barbarian?" asks Dak.

"You're assuming that the barbarians and archers are different people," says Karak, "We use bows and crossbows as readily as swords and axes."

"I always preferred the sword," replies Dak.

"And the ax," adds his brother.

"The point is, even with their hired help they don't have the manpower to cover every inch of their perimeter. It will take their fighters time to run across the village to try and stop our infantry from entering the village once their fire wall is breached."

"Then we will overwhelm them and their new friends with our superior numbers," concludes Kassar.

"Exactly!" says Karak.

"But why did we not try this earlier?" asks Brog.

"We needed to know their full strength," replies Karak, "Now we know."

"So why are we not sending in our _entire_ force?" asks Dak.

"Because I won't make the same mistakes my father did when he attacked Aruk!" shouts Karak, "Now prepare your men or it won't be the Akira impaling you! And you won't be dead when it happens! Understood?"

"Understood!" say the brothers in unison.

Conan and his five fellow mercenaries watch as the Jun Horde begin their second charge. Deathstalker and Subotai head over to the entrance of the village to lead the Akira archers in their defense. The others spread out, waiting for their chance to cut down the invading barbarians. They don't say anything, but all of them know that their defenses aren't likely to hold against this next attack. They will be fighting far more Juns this time than they had previously.

Kassar, Dak, and Brog lead the charge of horsemen towards the village's main entrance while the gray haired veterans and beardless youths charge across the Akira fields towards the defensive wall of flames. As before, the Akira defenders allow the first fifty or sixty Juns to enter the village before coming out of hiding and letting fly with arrows and crossbow bolts. Deathstalker's powerful Dragon Bow sends an arrow straight into the throat of a Jun's horse, exiting the other side and continuing on to bury itself into the chest of a Jun rider who is just behind and to the right of the horse that was shot. The horse collapses into the dirt road, throwing the rider to the ground where he lands on his head at an awkward angle, breaking his neck.

Subotai uses speed in place of brute power, firing arrow after arrow into one Jun barbarian after another. Every arrow finds a target, and even if the wounds aren't mortal, they're at least severe enough to keep the injured Juns out of the rest of the fight. The Akira do their part as well, raining bolts and arrows down upon the invaders as quickly as they can. As before, the horses and riders caught in the deadly onslaught fall and trip up the riders and mounts behind them. And as before, the Akira quickly move carts loaded with firewood into the road to block the Juns from following their companions. And thus the remaining members of the Jun Horde spread out, circling the village and firing their own crossbow bolts or throwing javelins at the defending farmers.

As the Juns ride through the town square, they come across a group of four Akira armed with crossbows. The farmers fire their weapons at the approaching Juns, killing or wounding a few of them, before turning on their heels and running away. Kassar spurs his horse into a gallop in order to give chase, as does several of his fellow riders. As the Akira run, they split up with two swerving to the left and the other two swerving to the right, while there are three more Akira just ahead with crossbows who open fire. The crossbow bolts miss Kassar, but kill one of his men and badly injures another. The Jun warrior spurs his mount onward towards the waiting farmers when, almost too late, he senses the trap. Realizing that the initial attack was merely bait to get them to follow, he recognizes why they gave this patch of ground a wide berth at the last second. Kassar gets his horse to make a mighty leap, difficult to do without any visible barrier for it to leap over. The horse' front hooves touch down on what appears to be solid ground. Unfortunately the poor beasts fall through the thin branches and blankets that are covering a deep pit filled with wooden spikes set in the bottom, their sharpened points aiming up at the sky. The blankets were covered with dirt, making the simple pit trap look like solid ground.

While Kassar's horse didn't quite clear the pit, it did get far enough to the other side to slam chest first into the far end. The momentum of the leap and the sudden stop threw Kassar from the beast's back to go tumbling on the ground past the pit trap. Unfortunately, his mount was less fortunate and fell into the pit where it becomes impaled on the wooden spikes. Joining the poor animal are several of the Juns who had accompanied Kassar in his charge after the Akira archers, along with their mounts.

The Juns' gray haired veterans and untested youths arrive on the other side of the village. Those of them armed with halberds and spears use their long reaching weapons to attempt to dismantle the fiery barrier which stands between them and the Akira. The heat is unbearable, and the smoke makes breathing a chore as it simultaneously burns their lungs and forces them to work blind as it gets in their eyes. Some Akira archers, no longer guarding the gates, fire their arrows and crossbow bolts at the Juns, slowing their progress. But the Akira are not the only ones with crossbows and the Juns fire back, forcing the defenders to take cover in their trenches. Soon the Juns manage to pull down and scatter enough of the burning logs to create a sizable gap in the fiery obstacle, big enough for the barbarians to run through two at time, or for riders to enter single file.

On come the Juns, with swords, axes, and spears ready to spill blood. The Akira are ready to meet them in the trenches. Led by Kaylar and his son Shad, the farmers unleash a hail of bolts and arrows. The first several Juns fall, many of them pierced by multiple projectiles. Unlike with the gates, however, this only aids the invaders behind them. While the fallen Juns and their mounts tripped up the riders charging the gates on the other side of town, the bodies of the slain Juns charging through the breach in the wall of flames end up covering the scattered logs, smothering the flames and making the charge easier for their brethren. A mounted Jun blows a note on a signal horn and spurs his mount through the gap in the flames. Shad shoots the Jun in the chest with his crossbow, knocking the barbarian from his mount and into the burning wall. Despite not having a rider, the horse continues its charge and tramples many of the wooden spikes set in the dirt barrier around the trench, creating another breach in the defenses of the Akira. A gray haired Jun comes charging at Kaylar with his battle ax raised to strike. The Akira elder shoots a crossbow bolt right through the Jun's heart, killing him instantly. Following right behind the veteran Jun is an untried youth, barely more than thirteen years of age, charging with his spear aimed right at the old man's heart. With no time to draw a melee weapon for close combat or reload his crossbow, Kaylar knocks the spear aside with his crossbow and then slams the butt of the weapon into the boy's temple.

Another veteran Jun tries to attack Kaylar as the retired soldier is engaged with the youth, but is intercepted by Shad. This Jun fights with a sword and shield, and although no longer in his prime he has lost little of his skill with a blade. Shad hadn't been a warrior for very long, but he has proven to be a quick study in martial skills. What the young farmer lacks in experience, he makes up for in tenacity and determination. Shad's shield deflects the slashing attack of the older Jun, and he retaliates with a thrust of his scimitar. The Jun veteran blocks the thrust with his sword and then counters with a thrust of his own. Shad parries the attack and slashes at the Jun's throat. The veteran blocks the attack with his shield and slashes at Shad with his own blade.

Shad ducks under the attack and slashes down low, aiming for the back of the Jun's knee. The young farmer's scimitar bites deep into the Jun's flesh. The veteran barbarian thrusts his sword at Shad's belly, but the younger man parries the attack with his own blade, side stepping it and countering with a thrust of his own. The Jun tries to maneuver his shield in front of the attack, but with his injured leg he can't move fast enough. The curved blade slips between the older man's ribs and punctures his lung. The Jun makes a weak slash at the young man's head, which is promptly blocked with his shield. Shad pulls his blade free of the Jun's chest an stabs him again, this time through the heart. The Jun tries once more to lift his weapon, but his arms no longer have any strength. He just looks Shad in the eyes as his own vision fades, a glimmer of respect for the young farmer's skill at combat.

Kaylar shoots down another Jun with his crossbow. He quickly goes about resetting the bowstring. As he does this, the young Jun he had knocked out earlier regains his feet and draws a dagger from his belt. As Kaylar sets a fresh bolt onto the crossbow, the young Jun comes up behind him and plunges his dagger into the old man's back. Shad looks on with horror as this child is murdering his father while his own sword is stuck in a Jun's heart. "NO!" he screams.

The Jun pulls his dagger from Kaylar's back and turns at the sound of Shad's scream. The young farmer places a foot on the chest of the veteran Jun he had slain for leverage and pulls his scimitar from the barbarian's chest. Screaming in rage, Shad raises his bloodied sword and charges at the boy. He slashes at the young Jun, aiming for his skull. The young barbarian gets his dagger up and parries the attack, but Shad follows up immediately with a shield punch. The blow knocks the boy back a couple of steps, putting him off balance. Had he been older and more experienced, he might have been able to recover his footing and defend himself. Shad doesn't give him the opportunity. He steps right in with a slash across the boy's throat, followed by a thrust to the belly.

As the Jun boy lies in the dirt, his life's blood pouring into the earth, Shad kneels next to Kaylar and cradles his father's head in his lap. Tears stream down his face as he looks upon the lifeless form of his father. A gray haired Jun comes up behind the grieving farmer, a battle ax gripped in both hands and poised to strike, completely unnoticed by the young Akira. A dagger whistles through the air just over Shad's head, startling the young man out of his grief. He looks over his shoulder and sees the Jun veteran standing there, a dagger buried to the hilt in his chest. Madmartigan leaps over Shad's head and kicks the Jun in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. Another veteran Jun attacks Madmartigan with a greatsword, who deftly parries the strike with his own blade, sweeping the larger weapon aside and then cutting down the gray haired warrior wielding it. The man from Tir Asleen takes a moment to turn and glance at the Akira farmer. "Grieve later," he says, "Now we fight."

Shad grabs his father's crossbow and points it in Madmartigan's direction. The knight's eyes widen as for a moment he believes that the young farmer means to kill him. Shad pulls the trigger on the weapon and the crossbow bolt whistles past Madmartigan's ear. The knight follows the projectiles path and sees it bury itself up to the fletchings into the chest of a Jun charging Madmartigan on horseback. The horseman topples from his mount and lands on the fiery barricade. Shad takes up his scimitar and shield and stands next to the knight. "Lecture me later," says the farmer, "Now we fight." Madmartigan smiles at the young man's choice of words, and the two of them fight shoulder to shoulder trying to stem the flow of Juns through the breach in their defenses.

Kassar pushes himself up to his knees, trying to shake off the after effects of his terrible tumble off of his horse. As he shakily gets to his feet, Subotai watches as an Akira farmer comes running up to the Jun wielding a wood ax, prepared to split the warrior's skull in two. At the last second Kassar delivers an amazing thrust kick, driving his heel into the poor farmer's throat and crushing the man's windpipe. The farmer is lifted up off of his feet by the force of the blow, falling back to the ground where he lies there desperately trying to breathe through a windpipe which no longer works.

Kassar stands over the fallen farmer, completely indifferent to the man's suffering. With his right hand Kassar draws a scimitar from the scabbard belted to his hip, while at the same time with his left hand removing his helmet. As the Jun's face is revealed from behind the helmets visor, Subotai's jaw drops in surprise. Kassar is no Jun at all, but is in fact Hyrkanian. Another farmer charges the large Hyrkanian, this one armed with a pitchfork leveled at the big man's chest like a horseman's lance. Kassar slashes through the shaft of the makeshift spear, severing the forks, and then slashes the man twice across the chest.

A third farmer charges Kassar, this one armed with a spear acquired from a slain Jun. This time Kassar simply sidesteps the clumsy attack and counters with a slash across the neck, decapitating the poor farmer. Subotai knows right away that these simple farmers are going to be no match for this Hyrkanian riding with the Juns. The archer reaches for an arrow, hoping to put this warrior down before he can slay too many of the Akira, but finds that his quiver is empty. He had fired all of his arrows at the Juns. The Hyrkanian thief removes his helmet and quiver, tossing them aside along with his bow. He then draws his own scimitar and dagger, mentally preparing himself for the fight ahead. While highly skilled with the blade, this Hyrkanian masquerading as a Jun appears to be no less skilled. And what's more, he is every bit as big and strong as Conan. Subotai is not looking forward to testing his mettle against this opponent.

As Subotai begins striding towards Kassar to engage the larger man in combat, he is attacked by a Jun wielding a great ax. Subotai ducks under the clumsy swing and slashes the barbarian across the belly with his scimitar, and then stabbing the Jun in the base of the spine with his dagger. As this is happening, an Akira wielding a bastard sword attacks Kassar with an overhead downward two handed slash. The Hyrkanian parries the attack with his scimitar and then disembowels the farmer with a counter attack, slashing him across the belly. A Jun charges Subotai with a spear, which the thief sweeps aside with his scimitar as he sidesteps the attack, and then slashes the barbarian's throat with his dagger.

An Akira armed with a broadsword and a shield comes at Kassar. He slashes at the Hyrkanian with his blade, but the experienced barbarian parries the attack easily. He then counters with a slash of his own, which is blocked by the Akira's shield. The farmer quickly retaliates with a thrust, attempting to run Kassar through. Kassar side steps the attack and pivots, slashing at the farmer's back. This particular farmer had paid attention during their combat drills, however, and was able to turn around and get his shield in place to block the attack. Kassar then tries his own thrusting attack, which the farmer successfully parries with his own blade. The farmer comes back with a thrust of his own, which Kassar parries in an upwards sweep. Then the Hyrkanian's scimitar comes immediately down, severing the farmer's sword arm at the shoulder. The Akira's eyes widen in shock and horror as he watches his own arm fall lifeless onto the ground. Kassar immediately spins and delivers a powerful thrust kick to the farmer's shield, sending the mortally wounded man sprawling in the dirt. The Akira farmer lies there as his life's blood pours out of the stump of his shoulder and into the dusty ground. By this time Subotai is now within striking distance of his fellow Hyrkanian.

"You are no Jun," says Subotai.

"And you are no Akira," replies Kassar.

"I am Subotai, of the great order of Kurlik."

"I am Kassar, of no particular order."

"How is it that you have come to ride with the Juns?"

"When I returned home from _The Walk,_ I found that my village had been destroyed by the soldiers of Khitai. I had nowhere else to go. The Juns took me in. They accepted me as one of their own."

Subotai nods his head in understanding. _The Walk_ is a Hyrkanian rite of passage that adolescent boys must accomplish in order to be considered men. They are sent out into the wild with nothing but the clothes on their backs. They must survive on their own for a year with nothing but their wits and what the land provides. Those who last thirteen lunar cycles and return home are welcomed as men of the clan. Those who do not are never spoken of again. Hyrkanian nomads are known for raiding the settlements of neighboring Khitai, stealing crops, livestock, steel weapons, even women. And the larger cities of Khitai have been known to retaliate, often wiping out entire Hyrkanian villages in the process. Subotai holds up his weapons in a salute, and then assumes a ready stance. "I cannot allow you to continue to subjugate these farmers," he says.

"I'm not here to subjugate them," says Kassar, "I'm here to eradicate them."

"And I'm here to stop you."

"You're here to try."

Subotai immediately goes on the attack, slashing with his scimitar and stabbing with his dagger. Kassar backs away, parrying every attack with his own blade. Despite his incredible size, Kassar moves with cat like agility, and none of the smaller man's attacks come close to causing damage.

Kassar then turns things around, going on the offensive with a flurry of slashes and stabs with his own blade. Subotai uses his smaller size to his advantage, ducking and dodging more than parrying. Kassar grasps his sword in a two handed grip and brings it down in an overhead slash, aiming to split Subotai's skull. The thief is unable to dodge to the side and parries the strike with his own weapons, crossing his scimitar and dagger up over his head and catching his opponent's blade where his own two blades meet. The force of the blow makes Subotai's arms tingle from the impact. The smaller man quickly strikes, delivering a thrust kick to his opponent's abdomen. The two of them back off a step and eye each other warily, both having gained new respect for the other.

Subotai whirls his two weapons about defensively in front of him. While this has the effect of keeping his opponent at bay, it also buys him time to come up with a new strategy as well as work the feeling back into his arms. He hides his feelings well, but the truth is Subotai is worried. Kassar had already matched him move for move with steel, and that kick would have had most men doubled over in pain. But the big man had shrugged off the blow as little more than a nuisance. Kassar circles Subotai, whirling his own blade about as he searches for a hole in the smaller man's defenses. The large Hyrkanian is actually quite impressed with how well his fellow countryman is doing in this fight. This has been the first time in a long while that he has met anyone who can match his skill with steel. And it's taking a great deal of self discipline to keep from showing any pain from that kick to the gut. The truth is that the kick is excruciating. But he can't show any weakness to anyone. The Juns are highly xenophobic, and the only reason he was allowed to live among them is his perceived near invincibility. If they were to ever have reason to doubt that perception his time with them, and likely his life, would come to a swift end.

The two Hyrkanians clash once more, their steel weapons flashing in the fire light. The two warriors move about in an elaborate dance, as beautiful to watch as it is deadly. Steel rings against steel as their blades clash together over and over. The two men duck and dodge, spin and kick, jump and twirl. The two of them step back from one another. A deep gash runs across the bicep of Kassar's sword arm. The Hyrkanian warrior grips the wound with his free hand, and then tests the injured arm's range of motion. Subotai holds his blades up in a ready stance, the blade of his dagger dripping blood.

"Congratulations," he says, "You've drawn first blood."

"Last blood counts for more," replies Subotai.

With that the smaller man leaps to the attack. Sword and dagger are a blur of motion, stabbing and slashing at the larger opponent. Despite his injury, Kassar is up to the challenge of defending himself. He successfully brings his scimitar to bear against every attack, parrying sword and dagger with lightning quick reflexes. Then Kassar goes on the offensive, forcing Subotai onto his heels. The larger man thrusts his blade at the thief's belly, forcing Subotai the parry the attack by crossing his own blades down low and causing his opponent's weapon too low, resting harmlessly between Subotai's knees. Kassar responds to this with a powerful roundhouse kick, which connects solidly with Subotai's jaw and sending him sprawling into the dirt.

Kassar raises his sword above his head and brings it down upon the prone Subotai. The smaller manb rolls out of the way, causing the curved tip of Kassar's scimitar to bury itself into the earth. In an incredibly acrobatic maneuver, Subotai springs up on one hand and delivers a spin kick to Kassar's face, staggering the big man. The thief quickly retrieves his dropped blades, and when he brings them to bear Kassar has also recovered from that kick to the face. Blood is now pouring from Kassar's nose as well as the cut on his sword arm. Meanwhile Subotai's lip is split open and his mouth is filling with his blood. He spits out a mouthfull of bloody saliva as he eyes his opponent.

Subotai charges at Kassar, slashing and stabbing with his sword and dagger. Despite his injured sword arm, Kassar manages to get his scimitar in line to block each attack. Subotai lunges with his own scimitar, attempting to run Kassar through the belly. Kassar side steps past the attempt and slashes down low, cutting deep into the outside of Subotai's thigh. Had the strike been full force, the archer would have lost his leg above the knee. But with his injured arm, the strength of Kassar's attack was limited and as such the cut not nearly as deep as it otherwise would have been.

Subotai staggers back out of reach, his weapons up before him in a defensive position. He tests his injured leg. It hurts to put weight on it, but it's still functional. The Hyrkanian takes a moment to think back to the last time he and Conan had fought such overwhelming odds together. The two of them had fought off an attack by the wizard Thulsa Doom and his elite guard. Subotai had been injured in that battle as well, and as luck would have it in the exact same leg. The twor Hyrkanians circle each other, both fighting with a handicap. Subotai's injured leg restricts his mobility, while Kassar's injured sword arm limits the force behind his sword strikes, as well as the angles which he can attack from. The two men clash once more, both determined to eliminate the threat posed by the other. Steel rings against steel as they both furiously stab and slash at one another. Subotai attempts to drive his dagger through Kassar's heart, but the large man catches the archer's wrist in his off hand and twists it, snapping the bones like they were twigs.

Subotai cries out in pain as he drops his dagger, but at the same time manages to slash the larger man across the forearm. Kassar releases Subotai's wrist and quickly backs away, his arm tucked protectively against his chest. Subotai similarly backs away, holding his injured wrist tight to his body. Kassar grips his scimitar with both hands and holds it in a ready position while Subotai holds his own scimitar in a one handed ready stance. The two men clash once more, both slowed by their injuries. Subotai slashes high and low with his blade, attacking at seemingly random angles. Even with both of his arms wounded, Kassar manages to get his own sword in line to parry each attack. The larger man takes a chance and launches a low kick at Subotai's wounded leg. His foot connects with the injured limb, forcing the archer to a knee. Kassar quickly follows up with a spin kick to Subotai's jaw, sending the smaller man tumbling to the ground. He comes at the archer with a double handed downward slash, but Subotai manages to roll out of the way causing Kassar's blade to sink into the earth. The thief snatches up his own scimitar and gets back to his feet, but Kassar pulls his blade from out of the dirt and drives the curved point into Subotai's belly. Conan's old companion's eyes widen in shock as he feels the blade cut through his intestines. Grimacing in pain, the smaller man grasps his opponent's blade with his injured hand and pulls it deeper into his gut, and then immediately slashes Kassar across the throat. Kassar releases his grip on the hilt of his scimitar and grasps his throat with both hands as he desperately tries to stem the flow of his life's blood. The big man collapses on the ground, the earth soaking up his blood like a sponge. Subotai too falls to the ground, knowing that he will soon see his ancestors in the afterlife.

While Subotai and Kassar are having their epic one on one duel, elsewhere in the village another battle rages on. Dak and Brog lead the horsemen who had avoided the pit trap towards the town square. They see Red Sonja standing in the open with her bastard sword held in both hands in a perfect ready stance. The twins spur their horses into a charge. At the last possible second Sonja jumps up and over to her right, coming down on the butt end of a long pike leaning across a heavy stone block. The ten foot long spear raises up at a sharp angle, using the stone block as a fulcrum. Dak's horse gallops right into the weapon, impaling itself and throwing it's rider. At the same instant Ruh pounces on Brog's horse, clamping it's jaws on the beast's throat and taking it down.

Being expert horsemen, both Dak and Brog manage to jump clear of their mounts before they could be trapped beneath them. They both get immeditely to their feet, ready for battle. At almost that exact same instant, Conan, Dar, and Deathstalker come charging at the Juns with whatever villagers are not defending the perimeter. The defenders clash with the Jun invaders, swords, axes, and spears driving into flesh and banging against weapons and shields. The twins advance upon Sonja simultaneously. Dak is wielding a battle ax in one hand hand has a shield strapped to his other arm, while his brother Brog wields a bastard sword two handed. Dak swings his ax at the she-devil, only to have her parry it with her own weapon. Brog immediately slashes at Sonja with his sword, aiming for her neck. The red haired woman ducks under the attack, forcing Dak to bring up his shield and block an inadvertant attack from his own twin. "Hey!" shouts the Jun, "Watch it!"

"Sorry," replies his brother with a shrug.

The two brothers eye Sonja with caution as they circle the warrior woman. The red haired warrior whirls her sword in front of her defensively as she sizes up her opponents. The twins also size up their opponent. She has clearly been well trained and is an impressive physical specimen in more ways than one. Dak glances over at his brother. "What do you say, brother?" he asks, "Do we kill her? Or breed her?"

An evil grin finds its way to Brog's face. They had been given orders to kill every man, woman, child, and beast in the village of Akir. But the Juns needed new blood. And this red haired wench would surely birth some truly mighty Jun children. As if reading their thoughts, Sonja speaks up. "If you can beat me," she says, "You can have me."

Now both of the twins are smiling. Dak holds his ax out to Brog, who taps it's blade with the blade of his own sword as though they're toasting each other with tankards of ale. Then the twin Juns charge at Sonja, bellowing out a war cry. The two of them slash at her at every possible angle. High and low, individually and together, both looking to cripple rather than kill. Sonja dodges and parries every attack, sometimes appearing to escape Death by only a hair. Finally the three combatants break away from each other, the twins breathing heavily but Sonja having barely broken a sweat.

"Seriously?" she says, " _That_ is the best you can do?"

"You haven't seen anything yet," replies Brog.

"I'm just getting warmed up," adds Dak.

"Then give me your best shot," taunts Sonja.

The twin Juns come at Sonja once more, hacking, slashing, and stabbing at her with their weapons at every side and angle. Just as before, Sonja ducks, dodges, and parries every attack with apparent ease. An attack from Dak's ax comes dangerously close to Sonja's shoulder, the blade grazing her skin and leaving the slightest of cuts. Brog thrusts his sword at the red haired woman, who parries the attack with her own blade, but receives a minor cut on her thigh for her troubles. The three of them step back to assess the others, the twins grinning with confidence.

"We're wearing you down, Red Hair," says Dak.

"You'll soon be ours," adds Brog.

"Our duel isn't to first blood," replies Sonja, "I'm a long way from defeated."

"Our victory is closer than you think!" declares the twins, and they charge forward to attack once more.

The battle between the three warriors is as fierce as ever. Sonja appears to be on the defensive, dodging and parrying more than attacking. Yet despite their best efforts, neither of the twins seems able to break through Sonja's defenses. Then with barely a shift in her footwork, the She-Devil (as she is sometimes called) goes on the offensive. She stabs and slashes with her sword, at seemingly random angles and patterns. The two Juns are forced to fight defensively, on their heels more often than on the balls of their feet.

Sonja slashes across Brog's belly, opening a deep gash across the Jun's abdomen. Brog backs away several steps, clutching the wound with his off hand. Sonja takes the moment of reprieve to focus her attacks on Dak. Her sword comes at the twin in a blinding flurry of lightning fast strikes. The Jun warrior is kept on his heels as he works his ax and shield desperately to keep the warrior woman at bay. Brog charges at Sonja from behind, his sword poised to stab her through the shoulder of her sword arm. But her warrior senses detected the attack, and at the last possible second she knocks Dak's shield out wide with her sword while simultaneously side stepping the sword thrust from behind. Brog's sword passes by Sonja's bosom by mere inches as its blade drives deep into his twin brother's chest.

Brog's eyes widen in shock and surprise as he sees what he has just done. Sonja uses that moment of distraction to slash upwards with her own blade. The sword cuts into Brog's arm, severing the limb just above the elbow. The barbarian cries out in pain as he staggers back once more, the hand of his sword arm still clutching the sword which is buried in his brother's chest. With two quick slashes of her sword, Sonja takes the heads of the two mortally wounded twin brothers.

While Red Sonja was occupied with the twins, Conan, Dar, and Deathstalker made relatively quick work of the remaining Juns that had been allowed to breach their defenses. Madmartigan, Shad, and the villagers were also quite successful in stemming the flow of Juns through the breach in their fire wall. Sonja and Dar each grab the head of one of the twins and climb on top of the largest building in the village. They face the northern mountains and raise the severed heads high into the air. Sharak swoops down and perches on the heavy leather gauntlet The Beastmaster wears on his left hand. Ruh climbs up onto the roof and joins the two warriors, letting out a victorious roar. Up in the hills, watching through an Eagle's Eye, Karak scowls at the scene below. The Jun Chieftain lifts a horn to his lips and blows a signal to retreat. The Juns down on the battlefield surrounding the Akira hear the signal and retreat to their encampment. Karak turns to one of his lieutenants. "Bring forth The Berserker," he says with a snarl.


	10. The Berserker

**Chapter Ten**

 **The Berserker**

As the Juns fall back to their chieftain's position, the Akira immediately set to taking their dead and wounded to the barn. The wounded for healing, and the dead to be prepared to be buried. Madmartigan and a handful of Akira drag the bodies of slain Juns out of the breach in their wall of fire, and then begin filling in the gap with kindling, dry logs, wooden furniture, and damn near anything else that will burn. Once the gap has been filled, the Lord of Tir Asleen retires to the barn to confer with his fellow warriors. He sees Dar treating the injured arm of a young woman and approaches him.

"How many have we lost?" he asks The Beastmaster.

"Twelve more of the Akira now walk among the gods, including Shad's father" says Dar, "Another eight might survive if we prevail, but are out of the fight I'm afraid."

"And of the seven of us?"

"Subotai has joined Malak among the dead."

Madmartigan turns towards the side of the barn which they have been using as a morgue. He sees Conan kneeling next to the still form of his fallen friend. The knight approaches the Cimmerian. As he nears the barbarian, he sees that Conan isn't merely mourning the loss of his friend, but is in fact praying over his body.

"May The Four Winds carry you to Crom's side, my friend," he says, "I will see you and Valeria both again one day. And, by Crom I swear that on that day I will have a bloodied sword in my hand and a host of slain enemies at my feet."

"He was an honorable man," offers Madmartigan in an attempt to comfort the Cimmerian. Conan chuckles at the notion.

"He was a thief and a scoundrel," says the barbarian,"And he was my friend."

"I saw the man he was fighting," says Deathstalker, "Had Subotai not stopped him, the Akira's death toll would have been much worse."

"His was a noble sacrifice," adds Sonja.

"Enough talk," says Conan as he gets to his feet, "There will be time enough to mourn after we have destroyed the Juns."

"That will prove to be no easy task," says Madmartigan.

"Did you really think it was going to be?" asks Dar.

"Our fire wall is burning low," the knight continues, "And our fuel reserves are nearly exhausted. We've already suffered a breach. I doubt that that particular defense will hold out much longer."

"And most of the traps set throughout the village have been sprung," adds Red Sonja.

"Over half of the adults in the village are either dead or too injured to fight," says Deathstalker, "As the outer defenses fall, the Akira will be overwhelmed."

"Then it is our job to make sure that they don't," says Dar.

"Position the Akira between the houses," says Conan, "Keep them in tight quarters. Make sure that the Juns can only attack the Akira one by one, or perhaps two by two. Take away their advantage of numbers."

"That could work," agrees Sonja, "It would give the farmers a fighting chance at least."

"The rest of us will have to draw the Juns towards us," says Conan, "Away from the farmers."

"So instead of the farmers being overwhelmed by superior numbers, we will be overwhelmed for them?" says Deathstalker, "I like it!"

"Tell Shad what the newest strategy will be," Conan tells Madmartigan, "Then get the remaining Akira ready. I have a feeling that this will be their final assault. One way . . .or another."

At the Jun encampment, Jun children, too young to take up weapons but old enough to witness the horrors of war, pound on war drums in a very precise rhythm. All around them, Jun warriors match the rhythm by banging their weapons against their shields. Walking through the horde is the largest Jun to walk the earth in recent memory. If Dako was huge, then this barbarian is downright gargantuan. Standing closer to eight foot than to seven, he trudges towards his chieftain. He wears a peculiar set of armor. His heavy black iron helm is designed to resemble the skull of some unholy abomination, with the fanged snout of a dire wolf and the curled horns of a ram. His shoulder guards, breast plate, and his shin and arm guards all seem to have been forged at least one size too large. They flop around over the areas that they are meant to protect. Hanging from the Jun's belt are a battle ax on his left hip and a heavy mace with a spiked head on his right. Both are forged of black iron, the head of the mace designed to resemble a black spiked skull.

This giant warrior is The Berserker. Once in a generation, the gods of the Juns bless one man-child with inhuman strength and endurance in battle. This child grows up learning how to throw himself into a mighty rage before charging into battle. While berserk, the Jun warrior will know neither fear nor pain. All but the mightiest of blows will not even slow him down once his rage has been summoned. And _this_ warrior is formidable even by those lofty standards.

The Berserker approaches Karak. The Jun leader hands the gigantic warrior a goblet crafted from a human skull. The Berserker takes the offered cup and drinks down its contents. He then begins to stomp his feet in time to the beat of the war drums. The Berserker then begins to dance. Slowly at first, but he then builds up speed. As the speed of his dance increases, the tempo of the war drums increases to match. Faster and faster they go, until it is impossible to tell if the dance is controlling the beat of the drums, or if the beat of the drums is controlling the dance. What happens next would amaze and horrify any outsider who should look upon this sight. The Berserker's body begins to grow. He becomes even taller than he was before. His shoulders, arms, and legs all begin to swell. Soon the armor that had fit him so loosely just moments ago becomes dangerously close to being too tight. The Berserker takes his ax and his mace from his belt, holds the weapons out wide, throws his head back and unleashes a mighty roar. Karak points down the road to Akir.

"To the village!" commands the Jun Chieftain, "Destroy the Akira! Kill them all!" The Berserker roars again and charges down the road towards the village. Karak mounts his horse and pulls his great-ax from his back and points the weapon towards their target. "Take no prisoners!" he cries, "Charge!" This time, instead of hanging back and letting his warriors do all of the dirty work, Karak leads the charge towards the village. Scores of Juns follow their leader on horseback, while even more follow on foot.

Down in the village, the carts being used to barricade the entrance to the village have been wheeled into position and set on fire. The Akira all stand their posts, nervously watching the road leading to the village. They glance at their mercenaries as the sound of war drums reaches them. Conan and the others don't show any sign of concern over the sound of the drums. If anything, they look more determined than ever to end the Jun threat. To Shad and a few of the others, this is actually very comforting and helps them to set aside their own fears. Then they see it. A monstrously huge Jun running towards the burning carts full tilt, the remaining Jun Horde hot on his heels. Everyone is amazed at the sight, not only of the Jun's incredible size but also of the fact that not only is this Jun warrior huge and on foot, he is also out pacing the Juns mounted on horseback.

Dar is the first to snap out of the shock of the sight before them. Having been raised in the village of Emur, The Beastmaster had heard the legends of the Juns and their Berserkers. While no Emurite had had the misfortune of encountering a Berserker for generations, their legends allow Dar to recognize this massive warrior for what it is.

"DEATHSTALKER!" shouts The Beastmaster, "STOP HIM! SHOOT HIM DOWN! DON'T LET HIM BREACH THE GATE!"

Recognizing the panic in Dar's voice, Deathstalker takes aim with his Dragon Bow. The blonde warrior let's fly one of his heavy arrows. The shaft clatters harmlessly off of the warrior's horned helm. Deathstalker immediately nocks another arrow and draws it back, taking careful aim at the charging Berserker. He lets fly. This time the arrow buries itself deep into the warrior's shoulder armor, but the giant of a man doesn't even flinch. He quickly tries again. This arrow lodges itself deep into the Berserker's abdomen. Such a wound would have put a typical warrior out of the fight for days. This massive Jun didn't even slow down. Realization sets in on Deathstalker as he begins to understand the reason behind The Beastmaster's sense of panic.

"FIRE!" the gladiator shouts at the handful of Akira archers who were left to help him guard the gates, "You heard The Beastmaster! Shoot him down! Don't let him reach the gates!"

The Akira let fly with their own arrows, adding their projectiles to Deathstalker's. Some of the arrows hit their mark and bury deep into The Berserker's flesh. Others bounce harmlessly off of his heavy black armor. It hardly matters, for he reacts as though they had done no more than throw pebbles at him. The Berserker is only a few strides away when Deathstalker fires an arrow at practically point blank range. The arrow pierces the giant's heavy breast plate, the steel arrow head most certainly imbedding itself into his chest. Again The Berserker ignores what should be a mortal wound.

"SCATTER!" shouts Deathstalker a second before The Berseker crashes into the flaming carts.

The gladiator and the few Akira with him dive out of the way as the giant warrior runs head first into the fiery barricade. The heavy wooden carts are smashed to pieces as though struck by a battering ram designed for a castle siege. Burning bits of cart fly out in all directions as though a wizard had targeted it with a spell of explosive lightning. Deathstalker tumbles into a crouching position and looks up to see the massive Berserker standing in the middle of the road, pieces of the burning barricade scattered around his feet, and the Jun Horde pouring in through the breach like water through the crumbling hole of a broken dam.

Deathstalker draws his sword as he rises to his feet. Two Juns ride past the Berserker, one on either side of him, and ride straight toward the gladiator. Deathstalker cuts one Jun down off of his horse as he rides by, and a split second later ducks an attack by the other Jun by dropping to a knee and cutting his horse's forelegs out from under him. The Jun's horse collapses, toppling forward and throwing it's rider, breaking the Jun's neck. Deathstalker gets back to his feet and begins striding towards The Berserker.

One of the farmers charges The Berserker with a spear. The tip of the weapon digs deep into the warrior's hip. The giant Jun doesn't even seem to notice. He simply smashes the Akira's skull with his spiked mace, hardly even glancing in the farmer's direction as he does so. He cuts the shaft of the spear away with a single swipe of his battle ax. Another Akira farmer attacks the Berserker with an ax. The woodsman's tool cuts deep into the Berserker's thigh. With hardly a thought towards the action, the Berserker lops the farmer's head off with a single stroke of his battle ax.

A Jun warrior runs at Deathstalker, gripping a great sword in both hands, poised to strike. Deathstalker ducks under the swing and slashes open the Jun's belly as he runs past. Another Jun charges Deathstalker with a spear leveled at the gladiator's chest. The blonde warrior sidesteps the clumsy attack, cutting the spear shaft in two as he passes and decapitating the Jun with his sword.

The two champions then clash with each other. Deathstalker shows absolutely no fear as he engages the much larger foe. He comes in with his sword flashing in a remarkable series of strikes, attacking the Jun with cuts, stabs, and slashes from every conceivable angle and side, both high and low. The Berserker moves with remarkable quickness for one so large, putting his large spiked mace and ax in line to parry each of the mercenary's attacks. Sparks fly as the weapons clash, the metal ringing in the air like bells.

Deathstalker manages to slip his blade through The Berserker's defenses and slashed the larger warrior's thigh, scraping across the black iron plates. The Berserker retaliates with his spiked mace, bringing it down at Deathstalker's head. The blonde warrior brings his sword up and parries the attack. Deathstalker's knees nearly buckle under the force of the impact. The Berserker swings his ax at Deathstalker's neck in an attempt to decapitate him. The former gladiator drops to a knee, causing the larger warrior's attack to miss, and slashes The Berserker across the belly. The blade of Deathstalker's sword slips in under The Berserker's breast plate and opens a wide gash across The Berserker's belly, but the giant doesn't even feel the wound.

The Berserker swings at Deathstalker with his ax, and the mercenary parries the attack with his sword. The blade of the ax is redirected and just misses Deathstalker's head by a fraction of an inch. A split second later, The Berserker brings his spiked mace down towards the mercenary's skull. Deathstalker moves to the side, but not quickly enough as the weapon's spiked head crushes into the man's brass shoulder plate. The armor buckles under the blow, severely injuring the flesh below. Deathstalker cries out as the heavy weapon splinters the bones in his shoulder and falls to his knees. The Berserker kicks Deathstalker in the ribs and sends him flying through the air, and tumbling through the dirt. The Berserker stalks towards the blonde warrior.

Deathstalker rises to his feet, clutching his sword in his good hand as his injured arm hangs by his side. The Berserker charges at Deathstalker, swinging at his head with his ax. Deathstalker ducks under the certain death blow and slashes the larger warrior across the chest. Once more the blade scrapes harmlessly across the iron breast plate. The Berserker spins around, far quicker than one would expect for a warrior of his size, and catches Deathstalker in the chest with his spiked mace. The weapon makes a sickening thud as it drives into the blonde warrior's rib cage. Deathstalker is lifted off of his feet and sent flying through the air to tumble in the dirt. This time he does not rise.

At the same moment that this is going on, Madmartigan is perched atop one of the villagers' huts. As the Juns ride past on their horses, the Lord of Tir Asleen fires crossbows at the horsemen. He fires one crossbow, killing the Jun warrior as the bolt pierces the barbarian's chest. The nobleman drops the spent weapon and picks up another crossbow, already cocked and loaded. He fires again, catching another Jun through the neck. Then in an act of either extreme courage or extreme recklessness, perhaps even both, Madmartigan leaps from the roof and tackles a Jun warrior from his horse. As the two men tumble to the ground, Madmartigan draws a dagger from his boot and slashes the barbarian's throat. Another Jun rides towards the noble warrior, swinging a heavy flail around above his head. Madmartigan throws his dagger at the Jun, piercing the barbarian's heart and sending him tumbling dead from his mount.

Madmartigan draws his sword as he rises to his feet. More Juns ride towards the knight, weapons at the ready. A charging Jun tries to skewer the Lord of Tir Asleen with a spear as he rides by. Madmartigan cuts the shaft in two before the tip can connect with his breast plate, and a split second later slashes the horseman as he rides by. Another Jun tries to get Madmartigan with his ax, but the knight ducks under the clumsy attack and thrusts the tip of his blade into the Jun's belly. Another Jun attacks Madmartigan with a sword, but the swordsman parries the attack with his own blade, and then lops off the barbarian's sword hand. The Jun falls from his horse, clutching the bloody stump of his wrist in an attempt to staunch the flow of his life's blood. Madmartigan steps over the fallen barbarian and drives the point of his sword through the savage's heart, ending his agony.

As the remaining horsemen pass the swordmaster by, on come the foot soldiers. Many of them are either aged veterans that are past their prime, or they are untested youths with more blood lust than skill or combat experience. A young warrior charges at the knight with a spear leveled at the swordsman's chest. Madmartigan sidesteps the clumsy attack and slashes the Jun across the belly, disemboweling him. Another Jun, this one a silver haired veteran, attacks the Lord of Tir Asleen with a great ax, wielding the heavy weapon in both hands. Madmartigan parries the attack with his sword and then removes the Jun's head from his shoulders with a single stroke of his blade. Another veteran Jun comes at Madmartigan, this one armed with an ax and shield. The adopted father of Elora Danan ducks under the wild swing of the Jun's battle ax, slashing the aged barbarian across the belly, and then pivoting and stepping around behind the older warrior, slashing him across the back and severing his spine.

Another young and inexperienced Jun, this one armed with a scalloped edged drusus and a small shield, charges at Madmartigan. He thrusts the blade at the more skilled warrior's chest in an attempt to pierce his heart. Madmartigan parries the attack, and with a deft twist and flick of the wrist, he manages to disarm the young barbarian and send his short sword tumbling end over end high up in the air. The young Jun's lack of experience shows as he stops to look up and watch his weapon's progress as it begins to fall back toward the Earth. It's a mistake that the young barbarian soon regrets, the moment he feels the sting of Madmartigan's blade slash his throat. The Jun stands there stunned, looking at his opponent with a shocked expression on his face, his hands clasping desperately at his throat in a vain attempt to stop his life's blood from pouring out. He watches as Madmartigan casually reaches up with his off hand and catches the dirty short drusus by the hilt. He then whirls it about in a fancy flourish, right before plunging the scalloped blade into the boy's heart. The light of life fades from the boy's eyes as his heart is no longer capable of pumping blood through his body. Madmartigan pulls the sword blade from the Jun's chest and kicks him down into the dirt.

Now armed with a bastard sword in his right hand and a drusus in his left, Madmartigan starts cutting a swath through the Jun Horde. One barbarian attacks him with a sword, and Madmartigan parries it with his bastard sword and counters with a thrust through the heart with his drusus. Then in one fluid motion, he pulls the short scalloped blade from the Jun's chest and parries a sword attack coming from the other side with it. The second one can hear the clash of the two blades, he slashes the barbarian with his bastard sword, cutting him down. Another Jun charges Madmartigan with his spear leveled at the man's belly, intent on running him through. The knight parries the attack with his bastard sword, sidestepping the spear at the same time, and then pivoting and coming up behind the charging Jun in order to drive the tip of his drusus into the small of the barbarian's back. A Jun tries a downward, overhead slash with a greatsword, which Madmartigan blocks by crossing the blades of his two swords up high and catching the blade of the larger sword where his two blades meet. He then brings his foot up between the Jun's legs with a powerful kick, causing the barbarian to drop his weapon and collapse as he clutches his bruised genitals. The knight then crosses his swords at the barbarian's throat and draws them both outward, taking the savage's head with them.

Madmartigan looks up just in time to see Deathstalker fall to The Berserker. He quickly runs over to his fallen comrade. A Jun tries to attack him with a battle ax, but Madmartigan just ducks under the clumsy attack and hamstrings the barbarian with his drusus. The Lord of Tir Asleen kneels down next to the grievously wounded Deathstalker and can see that the blonde warrior is not to be a part of this world much longer. Deathstalker looks up at the knight, his eyes no longer able to focus. The once mighty gladiator takes Madmartigan by the wrist and places the hilt of his jewel encrusted bastard sword into the knight's hand. The once powerful warrior coughs up a lung full of blood.

"Win this war for me," he whispers. And then he is no more.

Madmartigan can't help but feel pained as he hears that request. The last time someone had said that to him, it was his friend Airk at The Battle of Nockmaar. He had just been mortally wounded in his fight against the fearsome General Kael, then he handed his sword to Madmartigan and said those same final words. Madmartigan tosses aside the scalloped edged drusus that he had acquired from the young Jun warrior and transfers his own sword from his right hand to his left, taking Deathstalker's sword up in his right hand. He then stands up and starts walking towards The Berserker with purpose, each stride coming quicker and quicker until he is sprinting towards the giant warrior.

The Berserker had just finished cleaving an Akira farmer in two with his ax when he hears Madmartigan's primal scream of challenge. The giant warrior turns toward the charging knight, ready to dispatch the enraged warrior. Madmartigan comes on in a flurry of motion, twin bastard swords whirling about with lightning speed. The Berserker's weapons move with equally blinding speed, each one intercepting an incoming blade before it can connect. The Berserker then goes on the offense, trying to crush the much smaller man with his mace, or cleave him in two with his ax. But as quick as this giant of a man is, Madmartigan is just a touch quicker. Every attack misses by just a fraction of an inch. The knight can feel the air rush past him as ax and mace narrowly miss destroying his body. Finally Madmartigan manages to get through The Berserker's defenses. He slips the blade of his old sword past The Berserker's breast plate, driving the blade hilt deep into the giant barbarian's side.

The Berserker seems not to notice. He kicks Madmartigan in the chest, launching him through the air to tumble in the dirt, much as Deathstalker had earlier. Madmartigan can't believe how hard that he had been hit. He felt like he had been kicked by an angry mule, _without_ the benefit of wearing the finest steel armor Tir Asleen has to offer. He looks up at The Berserker, who is coming at him with his ax raised high above his head, ready to strike. The Lord of Tir Asleen rolls out of the way at the last possible instant as the ax is coming down to finish him off. The huge iron ax head is almost completely buried in the earth. Madmartigan regains his feet and, almost instinctively, brings Deathstalker's sword down in an overhead, two handed, downward slash. To his surprise, the sword cuts cleanly through the ax handle, with virtually no resistance at all. The Berserker looks at the ruined handle and then tosses it aside. Gripping his mace in two hands, he now begins to swing wildly at the smaller knight.

Madmartigan ducks and dodges as best he can, but The Berserker seems tireless. He brings Deathstalker's sword up to parry a blow from the mace and his arms nearly go numb from the impact, and his knees almost buckle. The Berserker attacks again, but this time Madmartigan ducks under the wild swing and slashes the giant warrior across the belly. The sword cuts through the iron armor as though it were made of paper and opens a great wound across The Berserker's belly. The giant appears not to notice.

Madmartigan sidesteps an attempt to crush him with the mace and slashes through The Berserker's hamstring. The giant appears not to notice. Now Madmartigan aims for the giant's heart. He misjudges his opponent's reach and is struck in the chest by the heavy spiked mace. Once again he goes flying through the air to come crashing down and tumble in the dirt. Deathstalker's sword goes flying from the knight's grasp. For some reason which he cannot understand, his injuries hurt him far worse now than they did when he held the sword. Madmartigan quickly scrambles for a weapon as The Berserker approaches with his huge, heavy spiked mace in hand. He pulls a dagger from his belt and throws it at the giant. The weapon flies true and sinks hilt deep into The Berserker's arm. The giant Jun seems not to notice. Madmartigan sees Deathstalker's sword, but he can't possibly reach it before the Berserker crushes him with that mace. He reaches into his pocket, desperately looking for _anything_ that might save him. He pulls out the acorn that Willow had given him back at Aruk. With nothing left to throw at the giant, he throws the acorn. It hits The Berserker right in the center of his chest. In moments, the giant's strides begin to slow. His armor and his flesh begin to turn gray. As he stands over Madmartigan, that enormous mace raised over his head in order to squash his Madmartigan like a grape, he becomes a giant stone statue.

Madmartigan crawls over to Deathstalker's sword and retrieves it. The moment he takes it in hand, he feels better. Like his wounds are on the mend. Unknown to the Lord of Tir Asleen, Deathstalker's sword was one of three powerful talismans. Whoever wielded the sword was unbeatable. The weapon could cut through any armor, and would protect its wielder from harm. When Deathstalker used the sword to destroy the other two talismans, however, it's power became greatly diminished. What neither of them knew, was that when Deathstalker gave the sword to Madmartigan with his dying breath, his life force had passed into the weapon, in essence recharging it. It is now as mighty as it ever has been. Madmartigan looks over at the stone statue of the Juns mightiest weapon.

"I owe you one, peck," he says. Then he runs off to rejoin the battle.


	11. The Final Assault

**Chapter Eleven**

 **The Final Assault**

Dar kneels on the roof of the hut of one of the villagers. He has a light crossbow in each hand, aimed at the oncoming Jun horde. The hooves sound like thunder as the barbarians charge forward. The Beastmaster fires the crossbow bolts into the attacking Juns. His aim is off, as these weapons are not designed to be used with only one hand. But luck is with him for the twin bolts both strike their targets, wounding them grievously enough to knock them from their mounts. Dar tosses the crossbows aside and picks up another one, which was laying next to him loaded and ready. This one is a heavy crossbow, designed to punch through heavy metal armour with lethal force. The Beastmaster takes careful aim and lets fly at another Jun. The bolt flies true, piercing the barbarian's heart and throwing him from his horse.

Just as Madmartigan had done just moments before, Dar leaps from his perch and tackles a passing horseman from his mount. The two men land in the dirt, punching and kicking one another. The Beastmaster draws a dagger from his belt and stabs his opponent repeatedly. He then flips the weapon over, gripping it by the blade, and hurls it at another of the oncoming Juns. The blade of the dagger buries itself deep into the Jun's throat. The barbarian grasps his throat as he topples off of the back of his horse. Dar draws his bastard sword from its scabbard and opens a gash on the side of a passing Jun. Another Jun rides past, and Dar cuts his leg off at the knee. Another Jun horseman charges The Beastmaster, whirling a heavy spiked flail above his head. Before the Jun could even get close, he's buried under a mound of orange and black fur. Ruh pounced on the Jun, clamping his jaws on the barbarian's throat while his claws rake at the Jun's chest and belly. Another Jun horseman comes riding towards the tiger, his spear held poised to strike. Before he can bring the weapon down into the tiger's flank, Sharak swoops down from the sky and tears into the Jun's face with razor sharp talons and beak. The Jun warrior drops his spear and raises his arms in a desperate attempt to protect his face and eyes. The eagle takes off back up into the sky just as the Jun is riding past The Beastmaster. The second that Skarak is clear, Dar cuts the horseman down from his mount.

A large and powerfully built Jun, mounted on a massive black warhorse, and wearing spiked shoulder guards and a horned helm which covers his face with a steel visor, charges at Dar while whirling a heavy spiked flail over his head. Both Ruh and Sharak are too far away to give The Beastmaster any assistance this time. The last of the Emurites stands his ground, holding a ready stance until the last possible second. As soon as the Jun is almost upon him, Dar dives to the side while simultaneously slashing the horse's forelegs. The horse tumbles into the dirt, throwing its rider and sending him to plant face down in the earth. Dar winces as the horse's agonized screams echo in his head. But before he can put the poor creature out of its misery, or finish off its rider, The Beastmaster is set upon by several Juns on foot.

A Jun youth attacks Dar from behind with a great-sword with a scalloped edged blade. The Beastmaster instinctively ducks under the clumsy strike, pivoting and driving the point of his sword into the young man's back. Another Jun footman comes at Dar grasping a battle ax in both hands and holding it high while screaming a battle cry. Dar reverses the grip on the hilt of his sword, pulling the blade out of the back of the first Jun and delivering an upward slash across the torso of the next Jun. A grey haired Jun veteran charges The Beastmaster with a spear levelled at Dar's chest, while a second Jun armed with a sword and shield comes at him from the opposite direction. Dar sidesteps the spear thrust, grabbing the shaft with his off hand and adding to its momentum, driving the spear tip into the younger man's chest. At the same time, The Beastmaster pivots and slashes the veteran Jun across the neck, severing the grey beard's head. While Dar is distracted by the other Juns, the horseman that was thrown from his mount climbs back up to his feet. He pulls the horned helmet from his head, slips a heavy bronze shield onto his arm and draws his broadsword. "BEASTMASTER!" he screams.

Dar turns to face the Jun lieutenant. Ruh begins to circle around behind the Jun, but The Beastmaster subtly shakes his head "no". He silently tells the tiger to just keep the other Juns from interfering. He wants to face this challenge alone. He grips his bastard sword with both hands and charges the Jun. The Beastmaster leaps up into the air and comes down with an overhead slashing attack. The Jun lieutenant deflects the attack with his shield, and then counters with a horizontal slash across Dar's belly. Dar just barely manages to keep from being disemboweled, moving far enough out of the way to only receive a narrow gash across his abdomen. The Jun retaliates with a sword thrust aimed at The Beastmaster's belly. Dar parries the thrust, sweeping the broadsword aside, and then slashing at the Jun's neck. Once again the Jun blocks Dar's sword with his shield. He then attacks with a downward slash. Dar parries the sword strike with his own blade, then counters with a low slash aimed at the Jun's knee. The lieutenant parries the attack with his sword, and then delivers a shield punch to Dar's face. The bronze plated shield connects solidly with The Beastmaster's skull, knocking him back onto his heels. The Jun delivers another downward strike with his sword, which The Beastmaster once again parries.

However this time Dar is off balance and the force of the impact knocks him down onto his back. The Jun lieutenant straddles The Beastmaster, preparing to drive the point of his sword blade down into Dar's chest. In desperation, The Beastmaster brings his knee up to his chest and then thrusts his foot out as hard as he possibly can, driving his heel into the Jun's groin. The force of the kick is enough to lift the Jun up off of his feet and stagger backwards. However the Jun is wearing a bronze plated codpiece, offering him protection from such attacks. Thus he is more surprised than hurt. The kick does allow Dar to get up to his knees and retrieve his sword though. The Jun lieutenant raises his broadsword and attacks. The Beastmaster thrusts his blade forward. With his lower position, he is able to slip the blade in under the Jun's shield, impaling him through the belly. He drives forward with his legs, shoving the blade of the sword all the way up into the Jun's gut, right up to the hilt. Dar stands nose to nose with the Jun. Then he pulls his sword out of the barbarian's abdomen, and then severs the Jun's head. He then turns to see Madmartigan cutting his way through the Jun horde with Deathstalker's sword.

"Deathstalker?" asks Dar, even though he is already certain that he knows the answer. Madmartigan holds up the mercenary's enchanted sword and sadly shakes his head. "And the berserker?" asks The Beastmaster.

"Turned to stone," replies the Lord of Tir Asleen, "A gift from a Nelwyn wizard I know."

"Come on," says Dar, "Let's join the others. The battle is still far from being won."

So The Beastmaster and Madmartigan rush off to the battle, Ruh following close behind them with gore dripping from his muzzle and paws. Elsewhere in the village, set between two houses, Shad has organized the remaining Akira into a fair approximation of a phalanx formation. All of the remaining farmers are now armed and armoured with the weapons and equipment dropped by the slain Juns. Those who can't get used to the equipment are positioned on the rooftops, armed with crossbows and ready to rain death down upon the Juns from above. The Juns come on as predicted. They slam into the shields of the defending Akira, who drive them back with their spears. The Akira at the back of the group are armed with long pikes, adding their own spears to the wall of death that the Juns keep running into. And as predicted, in such narrow quarters the Juns' greater numbers mean little. On and on the Juns come, both mounted and on foot. And more and more their bodies begin to pile up.

At the edge of the town square, Red Sonja stands waiting with a light crossbow in each hand. As the Jun cavalry charges towards her, she levels the twin crossbows at the two leading horsemen, takes aim, and shoots them each through the heart. She tosses the crossbows aside, slips her toe under the heavy crossbow which is laying at her feet, and kicks it up into the air. She then snatches it out of the air, takes aim, and shoots a crossbow bolt into the armoured face of an oncoming barbarian. The bolt strikes him with enough force to throw him from the back of the horse and send him flying into another Jun horseman just behind him. The horse stumbles under their weight and collapses, throwing its rider. Sonja throws the crossbow at another mounted Jun, knocking him from his horse. She then draws her bastard sword and starts cutting down every Jun barbarian that comes within reach.

A Jun horseman rides by with his battle ax raised high, prepared to strike. Sonja slashes open his belly as he rides by. Another of the Juns' cavalry charges at Sonja, levelling his spear at her heart as though it was a lance. She cuts the shaft in two and stabs him through the lung. Another horseman rides by, swinging his sword at Sonja's head. She cuts off his sword arm at the elbow before he can make contact. More Juns come at her on foot. An inexperienced youth charges her with a spear. She parries the attack, sweeping the spear aside, and drives the point of her sword through his heart. A white haired veteran comes at Sonja with a sword and shield. He swings his sword at her head, which she parries with her own weapon. She counters with a downward slash, which he blocks with his shield. He thrusts his sword at Sonja's exposed belly, but she brings her sword down to parry the attack just in time. She sweeps his sword aside and tries a horizontal slash across his chest. Once again the old man blocks it with his shield. He tries an overhead downward slash. Sonja ducks under the attack, stepping past the Jun while at the same time opening up his abdomen. Then she steps in behind him and slashes him across the spine.

An inexperienced young Jun barbarian gripping a battle ax in both hands charges at Sonja, screaming wildly. He raises the ax over his head, intending to bring the weapon down and bury it in Sonja's skull. Sonja thrusts her sword forward, and the foolish boy virtually impales himself on her blade. Two Jun warriors help the Jun lieutenant who was knocked from his mount with a thrown crossbow back to his feet. He leans heavily on the handle of his weapon, a heavy spiked mace, but waves them away. The two Juns approach Sonja cautiously, their swords drawn and ready. They both attack her at the same time, both gripping their swords in two hands and bringing them down in identical downward strikes. Sonja brings her own sword up into a horizontal parrying position, blocking both attacks at once. She then counters with a horizontal slash across both of their bellies. Both Juns lower their weapons, grasping their wounded abdomens to prevent their guts from spilling out. Red Sonja takes advantage of the distraction and slays them both with two quick strokes, taking the head from one and driving the point of her sword through the heart of the other.

The Jun lieutenant grips his heavy spiked mace in both hands and strides towards the redhead. Red Sonja moves to meet him, gripping her own sword in both hands. Steel rings out against steel as the two warriors clash. Sonja brings her sword down in a overhead slash, which the Jun parries with the handle of his mace. He retaliates with a horizontal swing at Sonja's head. She ducks, thrusting her sword at his abdomen. He sidesteps the attack, punching out with the handle of his weapon, connecting solidly with her jaw. Red Sonja staggers back, blood running from her mouth. She wipes the blood from her lips with the back of her hand, glaring at the Jun with new respect. The Jun lieutenant swings his mace in front of him in a figure eight pattern. He grins wickedly with renewed confidence.

The Jun lieutenant comes at Sonja with a flurry of attacks. Downward swing. Downward swing. Horizontal swing. Upward swing. Horizontal. Downward. Each time, Sonja manages to duck, dodge, or parry the attack. He breaks off his attack, taking a step back. Sonja stands patiently with her sword in a ready stance, while the Jun is breathing heavily and can barely lift his arms. He nods his head as he comes to understand her strategy. She is trying to get him to wear himself out, swinging his heavy weapon and hitting nothing but air. He comes at her again, this time going low, aiming for her legs. Sonja dives over the attack, going into a forward roll and coming up into a crouching position. The Jun raises his mace up over his head in an attempt to bring it down into her skull. The move leaves his torso exposed, and Sonja slashes him twice across his abdomen, then drives the point of her sword through his heart as she stands up and pushes forward. Red Sonja places a boot against the Jun's chest and pulls her sword free from his body. A terrified scream draws her attention, and she looks to see a Jun warrior getting mauled by Ruh. Madmartigan and The Beastmaster soon join the tiger, both of them cutting down any Juns that stand in their way.

"Need any help?" asks Madmartigan.

"No," replies Sonja, "But that doesn't mean that I won't accept it when it's offered."

"You really do remind me of my wife."

"Come on you two," says Dar, "The fighting's not done yet." And the three of them head off after the Juns, with Ruh following close behind.

A young Jun barbarian, who is barely into his teens, bursts into the barn that the Akira have been using as a hospital and morgue. He sees the building is full of those who are too injured to fight, too young, or too old. An Akira farmer, his arm in a sling and his leg in a splint, approaches the boy with sword in hand. He thrusts the blade at the young Jun, who dodges to the side and comes back with an attack of his own. He smashes the farmer's good knee with a heavy wooden club. The farmer drops to the ground clutching his knee, screaming in pain. The Jun stands over the farmer and begins to bludgeon him with the club. The farmer's skull splits open, his brain splatters on the barn floor, his screams silenced. An old man strikes the Jun across the back with a wooden rake. The old man was once strong and able, but too many years of labouring in the fields have left him hunched over and nearly crippled. The Jun, while still very young, had been training for battle his entire life. He had learned to accept pain as a way of life. He accepts the painful hit, and then counters with a heavy clubbing blow to the face. The old man falls to the floor, and then the young barbarian beats him to death as well. The young boy, Sawa, attacks the Jun, flailing away at the boy's belly with his fists. But Sawa is too young and too small to really hurt the older boy. The young barbarian slaps Sawa of the Akira across the face, knocking him to the floor. He raises his club in order to beat the child to death as well, when he hears a girl scream "Don't you touch my brother!"

Sawa's sister, Kura, bravely runs to her brother's defence. The young barbarian steps away from the little boy and moves to meet the oncoming little girl. He swings his club, driving it hard into her belly. The girl doubles over in pain, and then the Jun brings his knee up hard into her face. Kura flies backwards, her nose bloodied, to sprawl on the barn floor. As she lands on her back, her skirt flies up revealing her naked pelvic region. The Jun gets a cruel look on his face. He had seen how his father and older brothers use the women abducted from the farming villages that they were extorting. They never let him join in. They said that he was too young. But they weren't here now, and this is the perfect opportunity to see just what he had been missing. Kura looks up at the Jun with a horrified look on her face. She had witnessed Karak's brutal rape of Shad's sister Nanelia. She didn't know why men do that, but she knew that she didn't want it to happen to her. She gets to her hands and knees and starts crawling away as fast as she can. The Jun walks up behind her and hits her hard in the ribs with his club. She collapses on the dirt floor, clutching her side. The boy grabs her by the ankle and forces her onto her back. He kneels between her thighs, forcing them out wide as he lays down on top of her. He braces his left forearm against her chest, leaning down with all of his weight and pinning her to the floor, while he reaches down with his right hand to hike up her skirt and pull down his loincloth. Kura reaches for something, anything, that might help her out of this. Her hand slips under a blanket and rests on something metal. She grabs it and pulls it out. It's Malak's dagger. The Jun is just about ready to penetrate Kura with his still developing manhood when he looks her in the eyes just in time for her to drive the blade of Malak's dagger into the side of his neck. His eyes widen in shock. He rises to his knees, his hands grasping the dagger in his neck. Kura scoots away from him, and then gets up onto her feet. She stands over the young Jun, and then spits in his face. Then she grabs hold of the dagger and pulls it out, watching with satisfaction as the boy's life's blood pours out of the wound and soaks into the dirt floor. The Jun collapses onto the floor, his life quickly fading. Then Kura runs over to check on her little brother.

Karak and his remaining Juns charge into Akira's town square. There they find Conan, Atlantean sword in hand, horned helmet on his head . He stands there, sword at the ready, waiting for them to attack. Karak waves his men forward, and they charge the lone Cimmerian. An ax wielding Jun heads straight at Conan, who cuts him down off of his horse. Another Jun, this one armed with a spear, charges Conan. The Cimmerian grabs the spear shaft with his left hand, then stabs the horseman with his sword in his right hand. He throws the spear at another Jun, impaling him through the chest. Conan ducks under an attack from a mounted Jun, who tried smashing his skull with a mace, and then cuts him down off of his horse. Conan punches a horse in the side of the head as it is being ridden past him, knocking the beast to the ground and throwing its rider. Just as the rider gets to his feet, The Cimmerian takes his head off with a single stroke of his sword.

On come the foot soldiers. A Jun charges Conan with a spear. Conan sidesteps the attack and cuts the barbarian's head off. Another Jun tries a similar attack with his own spear. Conan cuts the shaft in two and then slashes open the Jun's belly. The Cimmerian parries a sword strike from a Jun and then cuts off the attacker's head. A Jun charges Conan with an ax, but gets the point of the Cimmerian's sword for his troubles. Finally, Karak gets down off of his horse, ax in hand, and strides forward. "You fight well," he says, "I could use a man of your skill."

"Not interested!" says Conan.

"Too bad," replies Karak.

The Jun Chieftain charges at Conan, his huge great-ax held high in both hands. Conan parries the attack with his Atlantean blade. The Cimmerian counters with a horizontal slash across the chest, but Karak blocks it with his ax. Karak shoulder checks Conan, knocking the mercenary back on his heels, and then swings for Conan's head. Conan ducks and slashes at Karak's exposed abdomen with his sword, but the Jun Chieftain hops back just in time. Karak comes at Conan with a downward overhead chop, which Conan narrowly avoids. Conan responds with a backhanded slash, but only manages to slice off one of the ram horns from Karak's helmet. Karak strikes back with a horizontal slash across the chest. Conan barely manages to jump back out of reach. The Jun Chieftain still manages to draw blood, as the Cimmerian was still a little too close to be completely out of reach.

The two barbarians step back and size each other up. The two men look at one another with a measure of respect. It's rare that either of them ever confronts an enemy capable of providing such a challenge. Conan grips his sword in both hands and charges his opponent. He delivers a rapid succession of aggressive attacks. Downward slashes, horizontal, thrusts to the torso, slashing the legs. Every time, Karak gets his ax in position to block it. After blocking another high slash aimed at his neck, Karak punches out with the handle of his weapon, connecting solidly with Conan's jaw. The Cimmerian staggers back, his lower lip split open. Now Karak comes on in a series of aggressive attacks. The number of possible attack combinations are far more limited with an ax than with a sword, and Karak goes through them all. Conan manages to duck, dodge, and parry every attack. Karak attempts another attack aimed at Conan's head. The Cimmerian ducks under the high swing of the great-ax and slashes down low as he sidesteps past the Jun, cutting into his right leg. Karak cries out in shock and surprise, as well as in pain. He limps back a few steps, putting a little bit of distance between him and his opponent. Conan whirls his Atlantean sword about in a figure eight pattern, swings it around behind his back, and then brings back it back around into a perfect ready stance. Karak roars in anger. He comes on once again, swinging wildly with his ax. Now with more limited mobility, Conan has an easier time defending against his attacks. Conan sidesteps another attack by Karak, this time slashing the Jun's left arm just below the shoulder. Karak drops his ax and clutches his injured arm. He glares at Conan as the Cimmerian stands before him, his sword held in a ready stance.

Karak draws his bastard sword from its scabbard, its scalloped edged blade reflecting the dying firelight. The Jun Chieftain whirls the sword before him in a figure eight pattern, showing Conan that he too has skill with the blade. Karak grips his sword in both hands, and adopts a ready stance. The two men charge one another, their blades clashing in a flurry of heavy swings. Both men slash and thrust with their swords, parrying, ducking and dodging. The Beastmaster, Madmartigan, and Red Sonja arrive just as the two leaders clash. They cut into the ranks of Juns who are left watching as their leaders battle each other. Karak and Conan are very evenly matched. Every slash is parried. Every thrust is dodged. Even with their injuries, they are able to match each other, move for move. Karak brings his sword up to parry a downward slash from Conan's Atlantean blade. The scalloped blade of his bastard sword breaks in half, the heavy blade of Conan's sword following through to cut deep into Karak's right shoulder. The Jun Chieftain cries out and staggers back. He grasps his broken sword in both hands and slashes at Conan's head. The Cimmerian ducks under the attack and slashes across Karak's abdomen. Conan steps past the Jun Chieftain and pivots, slashing across Karak's back. He then drives the point of his sword through Karak's back. Karak drops to his knees and looks out at the scene before him. The Akira are charging the town square. Even the children and the elderly are joining the fight. Most of the Juns are laying dead on the ground, and those who aren't are trying to flee. As all hope for victory dies before Karak's eyes, Conan pulls his sword out of the Jun's back and cuts off his head with a single stroke of his sword. The remaining Juns flee into the night as the Akira cheer in victory.


	12. Aftermath Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

 **Aftermath**

"We won!" shouts a farmer.

"We've beaten them!" says another.

"For now," says Shad, "They'll be back."

"How can you say that?" asks an old woman, "Look at them flee!"

"Just as they did after The Battle of Aruk," says Dar, "When they slipped away to rebuild their numbers and become a threat once more."

"This won't be over until The Juns are no longer a threat," agrees Conan, "Not next year. Not five years from now. Not ever."

"What are you suggesting?" asks Madmartigan.

"That we take the fight to The Juns," says Conan, "That we show them that we will not be a victim to them ever again. Show them how it feels to have their home invaded."

"The Juns don't take their women into battle," says Madmartigan, "You're talking about killing non combatants."

"My sister is still being held prisoner in their Hidden Fortress," says Shad, "So are many other women. We have to rescue them."

"The Akira are severely short of able bodied people to work the fields," says Dar, "If there are young Jun children there, children young enough to not have been taught to be evil, perhaps they could be adopted into the community. Made productive members of the village."

"No!" shouts Kura, "They killed my daddy! They killed Malak! They took my mommy away! They tried to kill my brother! One of them tried to rape me today! I want them all dead! _All of them!"_

"What separates us from the Juns," Red Sonja says gently, "is that we are able to show compassion and mercy. The sins of the husbands and fathers should not be paid for by their wives and children."

"Well said," says Madmartigan, "I've done many things before becoming Lord of Tir Asleen, things I'm not exactly proud of. One thing that I can honestly say that I have never done is kill innocent women and children."

"What does it matter?" asks one of the farmers, "They're fleeing to their Hidden Fortress. None of us know where it is. That's what makes it _hidden."_

"That's not exactly true," says Dar, "I know where their Hidden Fortress is. Sharak showed me the way."

"Can you find your way there?" asks Conan.

"Of course," replies The Beastmaster.

"Where is their fortress?" asks Red Sonja.

"High up in the mountains," says Dar, "Built into the mountain itself. There are large stone pillars on either side of the entrance, carved into the shape of giant snakes."

"What?" says Conan.

"The pillars are made to look like giant snakes," says Dar, "And there's a symbol carved into the doors. Two giant snakes facing each other, but they share the same body."

"With a black moon and sun below?"

"Yes," replies Dar, "Why? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Do the Juns worship Set?" asks Conan.

"I don't know," admits The Beastmaster, "When they were once led by Maax, but he was a priest of Ar, not of Set."

"You're acting strange," says Red Sonja, "What is going on?"

"That symbol," says Conan, "It was carried by those who followed Thulsa Doom when they came and destroyed my village."

"But Thulsa Doom is dead," says Madmartigan, "You told us so yourself. You cut off his head and burned his remains, and his temple with them."

"His Mountain of Power is many miles from here," adds Sonja, "There can't possibly be a connection between The Juns and Thulsa Doom."

"Most likely after the Battle of Aruk, the scattered remains of The Juns came across a hidden stronghold of Set worshipers which was abandoned after their leader was killed," suggests Dar, "I doubt that their choice to live there was anything other than them being pragmatic."

"Still," says Conan, "I want nothing left of that evil place when we are finished. We offer the women and children a chance to surrender, then we burn the place to the ground."

"It's been carved out of the mountainside," says Dar.

"Then we'll knock out the support pillars so that it collapses in on itself!" shouts the Cimmerian, "No one is to find their way into that evil place again! Ever!"

"Fine," agrees Red Sonja, "So we have to decide who is going to go and who's going to stay."

"Every Akira who is able to ride should come with us," says Madmartigan, "This is their fight. They need to be able to see it through to the end."

"How many are left who are able to ride?" asks Conan.

"About a dozen," says Dar, "Hardly what you could call an army."

"No," agrees Conan, "But maybe enough to convince The Juns to surrender. Very well. Round up whatever horses The Juns have left behind. We leave at first light."

"We're coming too," says Kura.

Conan turns around to see the young girl and a host of Akira children with grim expressions on their faces, all armed with daggers and hatchets. "No," says Conan, "You are too young."

"You didn't think that we were too young when we charged the battlefield earlier," argues the girl, "And the Juns didn't think that I was too young to be raped tonight!"

"I hate to say it," says Sonja, "but she has a point. We are desperately short on able bodied adults. These children could give us the numbers that we need to win."

"They are too small and weak to stand against adults in battle," says Conan, "even against their aged veterans and inexperienced youths."

"In close combat perhaps," agrees Madmartigan, "but we can arm them with crossbows to fight from afar."

"I was not much older than these children when my father began training me with the sword," adds Dar, "And King Tal was almost as young as they are when he led the people of Aruk against the priests of Ar and their temple guards, as well as the Juns as they attacked the city shortly after."

"Prince Tarn of Hablock was similarly young when he and his man-servant Falcon joined me on my quest of vengeance against Queen Gedrin," says Sonja.

"King Tal and Prince Tarn were older then than these children are now," says Conan, "And they had the benefit of years of training by the best tutors that their wealth and position could afford. These children did not even train with the other Akira."

"Conan," says Shad, "I am loath to use children as soldiers. And you are right in that they have neither the size, the strength, nor the training to stand toe to toe with even the weakest of the Juns' reserves. But they are of Akir. They have the right to fight for their home."

"Very well," concedes the Cimmerian, "We will take only the older children. Arm them with light crossbows. Each of us will have to double up. One child on the back of each horse."

"Agreed," says Shad.

"Then gather up the necessary supplies," instructs Conan, "We must make haste if we are to catch up to the Juns before they reach their home. Once they barricade themselves in a fortress such as that, even an entire army would be unable to get them out."

The Akira gather horses and supplies. Conan, Sonja, Dar, and Madmartigan gather their equipment. Conan takes Deathstalker's Dragon Bow, and Sonja takes Subotai's longbow. Madmartigan takes a heavy crossbow, and The Beastmaster takes a spear. The four remaining mercenaries are joined by Shad and twelve of his fellow Akira. Three of the Akira are hunters, armed with bows and arrows. The rest are farmers, armed with heavy crossbows, axes, and spears. Kura has gathered sixteen of her fellow children, all armed with hatchets, knives, and light crossbows. The Akira have gathered seventeen Jun warhorses for the party, each one loaded with bags of provisions and a pair of light crossbows strapped to their saddles. The mercenaries and their Akira employers mount up, each one with a child mounted behind them. As the eastern sky turns pink and red with the rising sun, Conan leads the party into the mountains after the fleeing Juns.

With Dar's animal companions scouting ahead, it takes the Akira and their mercenaries little time to track down the fleeing Juns. They come across them in small groups. Sometimes two or three at a time. Sometimes up to a dozen. Each time, Conan and the other mercenaries let the Akira take the lead in eliminating these Juns. The children begin the attacks by firing their crossbows at the barbarians. Then the adult Akira close in for melee combat, finishing off those who weren't killed in the first volley. With the larger groups, everyone fires their bows and crossbows before the adults close in for the kill. Conan and the others back up their employers on the battlefield, but the majority of the fighting is left to the Akira. They need to be ready for the final confrontation that is yet to come. Not just physically, but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. They cannot afford to have any hesitation when they storm the fortress. After two days of hard riding, and skirmishes with small groups of Juns, most of whom were the aged veterans and the untried youths, The Beastmaster calls for the group to halt.

"What is it?" asks Conan.

"A clearing up ahead," says Dar, "A lot of Juns are camped out there. A _lot_ of Juns."

"How do you know?" asks Madmartigan.

"I can see them," he replies, "Through Sharak's eyes."

"How many?" asks Conan.

"We're outnumbered at least four to one," he replies, "Many of them are adults in their prime. A score of them at least. The rest are all of their reserves. Their silver haired veterans and youths that are barely old enough to shave. Both of their young and their old each have us outnumbered by at least two to one."

"It must be a rendezvous point for the Juns," says Madmartigan, "A place to gather if the battle turned against them."

"Which It has," says Shad.

"I don't think that our usual strategy will work for this group Conan," says Sonja.

"Me either," agrees the Cimmerian.

"Shad," says Dar, "I want you to take all of the Akira who are armed with crossbows and flank the Juns, positioning yourselves between them and the path towards their fortress. Conan, Sonja, and Madmartigan will sneak around to our left. The three Akira with longbows will stay behind with the children and attack from the rear."

"And where will you be, my friend?" asks Conan.

"Ruh and I will be attacking from the right," replies the Beastmaster, "Just as soon as we gather some reinforcements. Just don't start the attack until you hear my signal."

"And what signal would that be?" asks Shad.

"You'll know it when you hear it." And with that, Dar and Ruh run off into the forest.

"So thirty of us are going to surround nearly four score Juns?" asks Shad.

"Subotai and I faced worse odds and won during our final confrontation with Thulsa Doom," says Conan.

"And I faced worse odds when defending the castle of Tir Asleen against General Kael and the soldiers of Nockmaar," adds Madmartigan.

"Besides," says Sonja, "We don't actually have to outnumber the Juns. We just have to make them _think_ that we do."

"When you hear Dar's signal," instructs Conan, "The Akira archers and children will fire upon them from behind. At the same time, Sonja, Madmartigan and I will fire upon them from the side. This should create panic in their ranks. Some of their numbers will likely flee towards their fortress. When they do, Shad and his men will fire upon them. Then the archers and children will continue firing into the crowd while the rest of us take to the field and finish them off with steel."

"Are you certain that they will flee?" Shad asks.

"Do I look like Crom to you?" replies the Cimmerian, "I don't know everything that might happen. What I do know is that the Juns are tired, they're hurt, and they're already on the run. After what happened in Akir, I doubt that they have the stomach for another battle."

"Remember," says Madmartigan, "These are the scraps of the Jun Horde. When firing upon them, aim for their prime warriors first. The veterans who are past their prime and the youths who have not yet even reached their prime will be far closer to your combat skills."

Shad nods his head affirmatively and then leads the Akira around the Juns. Conan then addresses the Akira archers. "Remember," he says, "Stay hidden and keep shooting. Keep up the barrage as much as you can. Make it seem as though there are sixty of you, not just twenty." The Akira archers nod their heads and lead the children into position.

"Come," says Sonja, "Let us get into position. Dar will be back soon with his reinforcements."

"What reinforcements do you suppose he has in mind?" asks Madmartigan.

"He is The Beastmaster," replies Conan, "I suppose he will be bringing an army of beasts."

"I figured as much," chuckles the Lord of Tir Asleen, "What I mean is what sorts of beasts will he be bringing to help?"

"Whatever they are, they had better be fierce and powerful," says Conan, "And lots of them."

"Come on," says Sonja, "If we aren't in position when Dar arrives, it won't matter what kind of reinforcements he brings."

The three mercenaries take up their weapons and run off to take their positions. They creep through the bushes until they come to the edge of the clearing. Keeping hidden, they spread themselves out. Conan moves to the left, while Red Sonja goes to the right. Madmartigan takes his position in the centre. Conan and Sonja stick the tips of their arrows into the ground for easy access. Madmartigan sets out three loaded crossbows, one heavy and two light, and then does the same with his crossbow bolts. Then they sit and wait. Fortunately they don't have to wait for too long. Soon the sound of wolves howling echoes through the clearing. The Juns stand up and face the direction that the howling is coming from. Taking this as their cue, Conan, Sonja, and Madmartigan open fire upon the Juns.

Conan shoots an arrow into the back of the head of a Jun youth. The projectile connects with such force that the youth is thrown into the chest of a grown Jun warrior. The arrow continues on through the boy's skull and into the heart of the older Jun. Sonja lets fly with arrow after arrow, each one finding its mark in the heads and chests of healthy adult Juns. Madmartigan fires his heavy crossbow first. The heavy bolt drives through the helmet of a Jun warrior. He tosses the heavy crossbow aside and picks up the light crossbow. He takes aim and puts a bolt through the neck of another Jun. Then he tosses that crossbow aside and picks up the second light crossbow and fires another bolt, this one pierces the heart of another Jun warrior. He quickly pulls back on the bowstring and locks it in place. Madmartigan puts a bolt into place, takes aim and fires, shooting another Jun right through the throat.

As the Akira archers and children see the mercenaries open fire on the Juns, they too release a volley of arrows and crossbow bolts. As instructed, they aimed mostly at the warriors who are still in their prime. Many of the Juns fall, either dead or badly injured. The three archers continue the barrage of missile fire as best they can as the children reload their crossbows. The Akira children then begin alternating their attacks, with some of them shooting their crossbows while the others are reloading theirs.

Just as the Juns are beginning to get peppered with arrows and crossbow bolts, The Beastmaster comes running out of the forest, spear in hand. He hurls the weapon at the first Jun he sees. The spear soars through the air with such speed and strength that one would think that it had been shot from a ballista. It strikes a Jun warrior in the chest, impaling him and piercing his heart. Several white haired Jun veterans take up their weapons and move to intercept the lone warrior. They may be old, but they still have The Beastmaster outnumbered at least forty to one. Dar doesn't even slow his pace. He draws his sword and heads straight for the Juns' encampment. Then the Juns stop dead in their tracks as The Beastmaster's reinforcements arrive. A pack of dire wolves come barreling out of the bushes, each one nearly the size of a horse. There are at least a dozen full grown wolves, with nearly a score of cubs, each one roughly the size of one of their smaller, more common cousins full grown. And running alongside them is Ruh, roaring and ready to fight. The dire wolves pounce on the Juns, clamping their jaws down on their throats. Some of the Juns get their arms up in defence, the powerful jaws of the wolves tearing flesh and crushing bones.

The remaining prime Jun warriors lead the Jun youths in a mad dash towards the Jun fortress. Conan nods his head in understanding. The Juns youths are the future of the Jun empire. They are the future hunters and warriors of the Jun people. They are the ones who will sire the next generation of Juns. The veterans are old and past their prime. They likely cannot bed women as often as they could when they were younger. And even when they can, they are less likely to be able to plant their seed in the women's wombs. So the veterans are staying behind to sacrifice themselves. Giving their youths the opportunity to get back to their fortress, to barricade themselves behind the heavy doors and wait out any invasions. The Juns prime warriors and the inexperienced youths approach Shad and his fellow Akira. The farmers release a volley of crossbow bolts. Ten Jun warriors fall dead, bolts protruding from their chests. The Akira toss aside the crossbows and grab others that are laying loaded and waiting at their feet. Another volley of bolts, cutting down another ten Juns. Their crossbows now spent, Shad draws his scimitar and takes up his shield. The other Akira follow his example and take up their weapons and shields. Then with a cry of pure rage they charge the field. The Juns, now only the youths and the veterans are left to fight.

Conan, Madmartigan, and Red Sonja draw their swords and charge onto the field as well. Madmartigan's enchanted sword cuts through the wooden spear shafts and ax handles as though they are made of warm wax. The Juns fall at the knight's feet, either cut in two, dismembered, or split open. Conan lays into the Juns, cutting them down with his Atlantean blade. Red Sonja slices and stabs the Juns with her sword, blessed by the goddess Scathatch, leaving them either dead or dying.

Soon, between the skill of the four remaining mercenaries, the constant barrage of arrows and crossbow bolts, and the pent up rage of the Akira, the battle is eventually won. Remarkably, even though they were terribly outnumbered, and the Akira were nowhere near as skilled in combat as the Juns, The Akira suffered no casualties in the battle. Some of them had been injured, but not severely enough to be taken out of the battle. Nor badly enough to keep from moving on to the Hidden Fortress of the Juns. They bind their wounds, mount their horses, and continue on their way.

In the bed chamber of Karak, Nanelia lays naked on the bed, her body glistening with sweat and her face contorted in disgust and discomfort. Leaning over her is a hideously ugly Jun woman. Her sagging naked breasts hang down in Nanelia's face. She gives the Akira girl a cruel grin, her teeth rotting, some of them even missing. One of the woman's hands holds Nanelia down on the bed while her other hand is thrust down in between her thighs. The old hag pulls her hand out from between the girl's legs, her fingers glistening in the candlelight from her bodily fluids. The Jun woman sniffs her fingers.

"Congratulations," she says, "You are with child." She then sucks the fluid from her fingers. "A boy child," she continues, "One who will grow up to become heir to the Jun Empire."

"He won't," Nanelia says to the Jun midwife, "I will smash his head in with a rock before I allow that bastard to grow up into a monster like his father!"

The midwife slaps Nanelia across the face. "Foolish girl!" She hisses, "Do you think that you are the first to bear a Jun child in this way? You'll be bound for the birthing. The prince will be raised by the Jun warriors. And once you have given Karak his heir, you will be used for the pleasure of all of the Juns. You will give birth to Jun children until you are no longer fertile. And when you are no longer of any use for breeding, you will die."

Nanelia glares at the midwife as the old hag walks away. "Enjoy your time as Karak's pet," says the midwife, "Before long, it will seem a preferable existence compared to what lies ahead."

The Jun midwife leaves Nanelia to her misery, grinning at the thought of her being raped by the entire Jun nation. The old hag then goes about overseeing the day to day activities of those who are left behind. The children who were considered to be far too young to go to war with their fathers and brothers were hard at work training for the day that they will be old enough. They wrestle with each other, fight with wooden swords, and practice throwing spears at targets. The few men who are left, those who are too old to even be used as reserves, watch over the boys and provide instruction, praising them for their success and chastising them for failure. The girls are hard at work, cooking and cleaning. There are many women here who are clearly not of the Juns' bloodline. They are locked in chains, nursing infants and helping with the manual labor. These women are slaves, taken from Akir and other nearby villages, as well as from merchant caravans which the Juns had raided. They are used by the Juns for breeding, forcing them to increase the number of Jun warriors. The midwife wants to make sure that everything is ready for when Karak returns victorious. He and his warriors will have built up quite an appetite, not only for food and drink, but also for the carnal pleasures of the flesh. Suddenly there is a heavy knock at the main doors. She and a couple of the old men head over to the large double doors and, with much effort, lift the heavy wooden beam which is keeping the doors barred shut. They open up the doors, smiling as they believe that Karak has returned. Their eyes widen and their mouths fall open as they see the group of Akira before them, bows and crossbows aimed right at them.

"Surrender!" Shad orders them, "Or die where you stand!"

The two aged Juns reach for the swords at their hips while the midwife turns to shout a warning to the rest of the community. They barely move an inch when the three Akira hunters let fly with their arrows, taking them down and silencing their cries of alarm. The Akira charge into the fortress, weapons at the ready. Conan and his fellow mercenaries hold back, allowing their employers to take the lead this time. Jun women and elders come to meet the invaders. "Surrender or die!" The Akira cry out. The Juns grab whatever weapons they can get their hands on in response, and are cut down by the Akira.

Still the Jun women and elders thought that they would be able to repel the intruders. Even though the elders were too old to even be allowed to march to battle as sword fodder, the children were all too young, and the women were completely subservient to the men and not trained in combat, they still outnumbered the Akira several times over. But then something happens that the Juns did not anticipate. The women who had been captured as slaves begin fighting back. The slaves who were busy cooking dinner take up their kitchen knives and attack their Jun oppressors. The slaves who are locked in irons attack their captors with their heavy iron chains. The slaves who are neither wearing iron chains nor holding anything that can be used as a weapon simply attack with their bare hands, punching, kicking, scratching, and biting. A small group of Jun women barricade themselves in the nursery with the youngest Jun children and their caretakers. The door is battered down by the Akira, who storm the room. "Surrender or die!" Kura shouts. One of the Jun women raises a knife and screams in defiance. Kura shoots her through the heart with her crossbow. The slave girls who were looking after the youngest of the Juns' children then attack the other Jun women, burying them under their numbers. All of them but one. A woman stands there, nursing an infant, looking at Kura.

"Kura?" says the woman, "Are you Kura?" The little girl looks at her with a confused look on her face. "By Mitra, it is you! It's me," says the woman, "It's Momma."

"Momma?"

"Yes, baby! It's me! It's Momma!"

Kura drops her crossbow and runs into her mother's arms. Mother and daughter hold one another, tears rolling down their cheeks. Conan, Dar, Sonja, and Madmartigan walk through the temple of Set. The Juns women and elders lay dead at their feet. "So much death," says Madmartigan with lament clearly in his voice, "Such senseless destruction."

"They were given the opportunity to surrender," replies Conan, "They chose not to accept it."

"And what of the children?" asks Red Sonja.

"Those who didn't try to kill us will be taken back to Akir," Dar tells her, "They will be raised to be farmers, not murderers."

"The Juns are a large and powerfully built people," says Madmartigan, "They will make excellent farmers. And excellent warriors."

"The Akira aren't warriors," says The Beastmaster.

"They _weren't_ warriors," Madmartigan corrects him, "I doubt anyone could ever call them anything else from now on."

"They will be able to defend themselves from now on," agrees Conan, "And the Jun children will grow up to be great defenders themselves one day."

"I suppose you're right," says Dar.

Conan, Sonja, Madmartigan, and The Beastmaster search the temple of Set. They find the larder, packed with food taken from Akir and a half dozen other similar nearby villages. They also find enough livestock to provide milk, eggs, and meat enough to feed a large town. They find the armoury, with enough weapons and armour to equip a small army. And, most importantly to Conan, they found the treasury. Gold and silver coins, precious jewels, fine silks and expensive trinkets. Wealth enough to perhaps ease the pain of the loss of Subotai, Malak, and Deathstalker. The freed slaves and the children gather as much food and equipment as they can carry. The horses are loaded up with so much food that there is no room on their backs to accommodate any riders. So the Akira and their mercenaries walk all the way back to the village, leading a procession of freed slaves and young children. It takes them much longer to get back than it took them to get to the Juns' Hidden Fortress.

 **Author's Notes**

 _I thought that I would share a few words about the origins of this story. My inspiration for writing it, if you will. I had written another story for the_ Conan The Barbarian _movies called_ Conan vs Conan, _where Arnold Schwarzenegger's Conan from the 1982 movie meets Jason Mamoa's Conan from the 2011 movie. They get into an argument over who the real Conan is, which quickly escalates into a deadly sword fight. I'll let you guess who wins. The story got a lot of positive reviews. One review from_ Sw0rdslinger _I found rather confusing, which read "_ Post your review here". _Curious, I sent him a PM asking what he meant. He explained that a computer glitch had caused him to post the default text in the review box by mistake, rather than the review that he had actually written. This led to us discussing the Conan films in detail. We both agreed that it was unfortunate that the majority of the stories posted in the_ Conan Movie _subsection were all about the 2011 film and not the original._

 _This led to_ Sw0rdslinger _challenging me to something of a contest. For the longest time I didn't accept the challenge, as I had no idea what to write. Then I read a post on Superhero Hype dot com about movie crossovers that people wanted to see. Someone suggested a remake of_ The Seven Samurai _set in the Hyborian Age, using many of the characters that I used in my story (namely Madmartigan, The Beastmaster, Red Sonja, and Conan). This sparked my creativity, and after making a few minor changes to the original idea (the person who posted the idea wanted to include Hawk The Slayer, Legolas, the sorcerer's apprentice from_ Dragon Slayer, _and make Kurgan from_ Highlander _the main villain) I began writing my story._

 _If any of you who are reading this story would like to join in on the challenge, here are the rules:_

 **Rule #1:** Your story must feature and/or reference characters and events from the 1982 film _Conan The Barbarian_ and/or the 1984 sequel _Conan The Destroyer._

 **Rule #2:** Absolutely no characters and/or events from the 2011 Conan film are to be used or referenced at all. Inspiration from other Conan sources (the live action TV series, the comics, the animated series, etc) are allowed however.

 **Rule #3:** Minimum story size is ten chapters, with a minimum of three thousand words per chapter.

 **Rule #4:** Crossovers are allowed. However they must be fairly plausible, either through time travel, inter-dimensional travel, or already be from a shared universe. Or you can retcon certain elements of one of the other fandoms (like I did with _Beastmaster_ and _Willow_ for example). But truly oddball crossovers (like _Conan The Barbarian & Miami Vice _for instance) should be avoided at all costs.

 **Rule #5:** A cast of era appropriate actors should be included at the beginning of your story in order to help the reader visualize the action (Arnold Schwarzenegger as Conan, Gerry Lopez as Subotai, Mako as Hakiru the Wizard, Grace Jones as Zula, etc) . While not essential, this will help to prevent any confusion between the 1982 film, the 2011 film, the live action TV series, The animated series, the comics, and Robert E Howard's original stories.


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